Devil May Cry Adventures
by Straumoy
Summary: Taking the best of the DMC, RE series and a twist of GTA III. Follows Dante's adventures side by side of familiar GTA III, RE and DMC characters and settings.
1. Urban Legend

**Authors Note**

_First things first: I have no legal rights whatsoever regarding the following:_

_- Devil May Cry_

_- Devil May Cry 2_

_- Devil May Cry 3_

_- Resident Evil_

_- Resident Evil 2_

_- Resident Evil 3 Nemesis_

_- Grand Theft Auto III_

_All legal rights to the video games mentioned above belong to their respective owners/creators (Capcom & Rockstar). I merely use characters, music, items, weapons, settings, names, vehicles etc, etc, etc from these games as raw materials to write non-profitable fan fictions. Ergo, don't sue me! . _

_Another important issue to address is typos & grammar. I'm NOT from a country that has English as the mother language (I'm from Norway if you MUST know...), so expect to find typos, weird choice of words and grammatical errors scattered about. I do my best in sorting them out, but as we all know, no one is picture perfect._

**Urban legend**

It was barely a few minutes after midnight; the moon along with the stars remained hidden behind a curtain of thick and glooming looking clouds. The streets were empty, both because of the time of day and because of the neighbourhood. A lonesome silhouette peeked out from a corner, scanning the street. Hesitating at first, the silhouette suddenly dashed out into the street and only halted when its back was firmly planted into the wall on the other side of the street.

Fear was dominating in the silhouette's body language as it crept along the wall ever so cautiously. Sweat drops cutting their path across a face grimacing in horror, rapid breath and heartbeats loud as bombs dropping from B-52's shaped the outline of the silhouette. The character came under the streetlight and stepped quietly into its beam.

Generally speaking, the character didn't seem too much out of the ordinary. It was much like your average teenager spending the days of his youth having a good time until the break of dawn. However, the red iris and no pupils did make this young lad stand a little bit out, not to mention that his mouth was drenched in blood.

He bent down, trying to cope with the situation, collecting his thoughts and at the same time allowing his breathing to settle. How long had he been on the run like this? He was faster than most, but no matter where he went or how fast he got there… this thing was always right behind him. What was that?

A slight breeze danced by and carried a few torn newspaper pages down the street. A heavy sigh of relief escaped the young man's lips. Free, he'd managed to ditch the sucker after all. Then it came, calm and steady… the sound of footsteps.

Fear flared up anew. No way! Was one damn hooker worth all this trouble? The young man scanned the street up and down, before locking in on the sounds point of origin. A tall character, male, dressed in a long and heavy coat came walking from the far end of the street. A calm and steady pace, as if he had all the time in the world, that there would be no escape. Not now, not ever.

The young man finally managed to get his feet moving, which for a moment had frozen rock solid with fear. He crashed through a double door and fanatically pushed the elevator button in the hallway, only to find an «out of order» sign taped to the door. Spitting curses, the man dashed up the stairway, skipping two steps at a time.

Top floor, point of no return, if he could just find the stairway that lead to the roof, he just might get away. Looking around, his eyes gradually adjusted to the dim hallway lightning. This was one crappy apartment building he thought to himself. It probably dated back to the 1950-60's and haven't seen a paintbrush since.

The stairways from below creaked and thudding footsteps could be heard from below, climbing steadily. Panic rippled through the young man's body, it felt like could water had been poured into his veins.

When a woman at his own age came out from her apartment to carry out her trash, an idea came to his mind. Considering how badly this guy, whomever he is, dislikes seeing women hurt, the young man figured he could use that. Smirking evilly to himself, he flipped out a razor blade and grabbed the woman from behind. Naturally, the woman struggled, but she fell silent once she felt the sharp edge of the razor on her neck.

The sound of someone climbing the stairway became louder and louder. The young man's breathing picked up, even though he was standing still, his lower lip trembled and he grabbed on to the woman even harder.

A head popped up from the stairway, then the hilt of a sword, then a pair of broad shoulders, a strong back with the sword's blade running across it from right to left, the legs were for the most part covered by a heavy leather coat, save from the ankles and down, and a pair of strong arms rested on each side of this strange looking man.

He carried himself in such a confident and fearless manner. It was as if he could take on the world all by himself and only loose two drops of sweat in the process. He came to the top of the stairway and paused. His white hair almost had a self-illumination effect as it reflected the dim hallway light, creating a small halo around it. Suddenly the head bent quickly to the left then to the right, the cracking of bones could be heard in the process.

A faint sigh could be heard, as if this strange white haired man found all this like such a hassle, though driven by necessity he couldn't turn his back on it. He turned around and carried on walking at his steady and confident pace as if he was Clint Eastwood in a western movie.

«Listen up! Another step and the woman gets it, you hear!» The young man shouted, spitting as he spoke. The woman shrieked and struggled some more, but quickly calmed down to a quiet whimpering. He put on a serious expression, glaring at the man that had been chasing him.

Acting though, such a cliché, the white haired man thought. They're all like this, hard up front, but look close enough and you'll see that it's paper-thin in just about every case. Let's call his bluff, he mused to himself.

«Go ahead… kill the woman.» He said, picking up a silver gun from his gunbelt. The woman's eyes shot open big at his words, before narrowing again, not with hate, but with pleading. A car drove by in the street just outside, its front lights barely cast their rays of light through the window that stood behind the young man.

«I mean it…!» The young man said, strengthening his grip on the woman. «Why should I care? She's a stranger to me… never seen her before in my life.» The white haired man spoke as he casually loaded his gun, putting one bullet at the time into an empty magazine.

For a brief second, doubt flashed over the young man's face. Still, he regained his though composure and stood his ground. «Yeah right, I'm not going to fall for that.» He snorted. «Damn… that means that I've just lost $12.» The white haired man shook his head as he spoke.

Suddenly, without a hint of warning, the white haired man drew his pistol, now fully loaded and took aim before firing. The whole ordeal was over in a fraction of a second. The angry roar of his gun fled the hallway with lightning speed, the empty cartridge danced to it's own little metallic tune as it hit the floor, grey-bluish smoke rose to the roof and swayed around like a thick soup and the woman rested dead in the man's arms, half of the back of her head splattered over the floor, walls and roof behind her.

The young man, with half his torso covered in blood, looked at the open hole in the woman's forehead and could only stutter a few letters in stunned disbelief. «Now, with the hostage out of the way, I'm sort of curious of what you'll do next.» The white haired man mumbled to himself as he bent down and picked up the empty cartridge.

With a scream of fear and insanity, the young man threw the dead body aside and made a charge towards the white haired man, his razor raised high and ready to strike. «When will you stop being so damn predictable?» He sighed before, with a bored expression, drew his sword and swung it horizontally in front of him at throat height.

The young man stopped dead in his tracks, but before blood could spurt out from his newly cut off head, his body collapsed under its own weight and ended up as a pile of dust. Coughing slightly, the white haired man sheeted his sword across his back while waving away the dust with his right hand.

As the sun peaked over the horizon, the cloudy curtain of the night was pulled away and light bathed the streets of Raccoon City once again. An alarm clock kicked in and the radio buzzed to life. «Good morning listeners! We're ready to rock and rumble with the best music from 1985-87 here on Flashback FM. There's been a murder in the Portland area, but hey, so what else is new? The victim was a resident of…»

A hand hit the snooze button with a slapping sound. «I'm up already…» The owner of the alarm clock yawned before sitting up and stretching in bed. Leon S. Kennedy had just arrived in town and was eager to get to work. He would hate to be late on his first day at work, as you have only one chance to make a first impression.

After a refreshing shower and a quick breakfast, Leon grabbed his jacket and keys before leaving his flat. It was still kind of messy, with moving boxes scattered about and for the most part, was either unopened or half unpacked. Going down the hallway, Leon decided to skip the elevator and use the stairs for a change. He was a little tense and nervous as if it was his first day at school, so walking all the way to work might calm him down a bit.

Raccoon City was not really a small city, with its 4 million residences, but once you got a feel of the place, it could give you the impression that it was a small place after all. Leon looked around as he walked down the street, seeing how little by little the city awoke from its slumber.

The city itself is divided into 3 districts; Portland, Staunton Island and Shoreside Vale. Portland is the industrial zone. Here you'd find the docks, the red light district, warehouses, factories, markets, garages, as well as some useful suppliers if you were to swing into the shadowy side of the law from time to time.

Staunton Island on the other hand isn't really an island. True it is separated by two rivers and connected through subways, bridges and undersea car tunnels, but it isn't an island as in surrounded by miles of sea. At any rate, this is the central business district. This is where all the big businesses takes place in Raccoon City and is dominated by the rich, powerful and corporate.

Shoreside Vale gave the impression of suburban bliss and tranquillity Raccoon City style. In reality it is the home of many of Raccoon City's more affluent gangster's, Raccoon City's commuter-belt is a patchwork of swimming pools, picket fences, backyards, basketball nets, street gangs and 5 car garages.

It is littered with ostentatious mansions paid for in blood money, protected by high security guards and gates to keep the gangs of bored teenagers looking for something to do to bring some excitement to their middle class existence.

The designer dogs and the station wagons give a shallow serenity to suburbia but don't be fooled, violence and corruption are at the heart of every home, or so rumour claimed.

Leon let his mind drift around like this as he finally arrived at his new job, the R.P.D in Portland. He opened the front gate and it gave a cold metallic moan as he did. The front of the station was surprisingly deserted, but Leon didn't give it much of a thought. Walking on, he stepped up and entered the station.

The first thing that hit him was the entrance hall, and that was quite something. It was two, if not three floors tall, a balcony stretching around 3 of the 4 walls in a horseshoe like manner, solid bright brown bricks made up the walls, a lovely statue in marble stone stood pretty much in the centre and just behind it was the reception desk.

Feeling a little overwhelmed with the majestic atmosphere of the place, Leon timidly walked up to the reception desk. «Good morning sir, how can I help you?» The elderly officer behind the desk asked him as soon as he got there. «I'm Leon S. Kennedy, I…» Before he could finish, the elderly officer interrupted him. «Oh yes, the new kid on the block, eh? Well come on, I'll introduce you to the gang.» He smiled at Leon before leading the way to one of the doors along the left wall.

The door opened and Leon entered. Everyone in the room stopped doing what they were doing and measured him from head to toe with their eyes while remaining quiet. «Guys, this is Leon. He's the new guy that will take over for McCoy.» The elderly officer introduced him to the gang. An icy silence followed before someone in the back couldn't hold it back any more and shouted out: «Welcome on-board kid!» The gang beamed into smiles and laughter, firecrackers popped, party hats found their way to various heads and paper cups with soda were passed out.

Leon smiled, laughed and shook hands with his new colleagues. They chatted about various things while having some cake and soda. It wasn't until a rather foxy looking lady in a suit, skirt and glasses came in that the mood dropped.

The gang made way for her as if she was an ice queen that shouldn't be treated in any other way. «Mr Kennedy I assume? The chief would like a moment with you.» She said sounding rather formally and snobby like. «Okay, lets go then.» Leon said, putting away his cake.

The layout of the station was rather special Leon thought. If he hadn't had a guide, he'd be lost after 2 rooms. After they made it to the second floor, they had to walk around the whole balcony to the other side. After the rather long walk, they finally arrived at the secretaries office.

She took a seat behind her desk and buzzed the chief. «Sir? Mr Kennedy is ready to see you.» She said, still sounding cold as a blizzard's wind. «Very well, send him in.» The buzzer replied in a robotic like voice. «Down the hall on your left, left hand door.» The secretary said to Leon without looking up from her papers, as if she knew that he'd ask her for directions.

Leon left the secretaries office and followed her directions. Taking a small moment to fix his hair, Leon knocked politely on the door. «Come in.» Came from the other side of the door. Entering the room and closing the door behind him, Leon felt ready to meet his new chief. He was wrong.

The chief's office wasn't decorated in an expectable fashion. Hunting trophies along with some rather grotesque works of art hung on the walls and rested on shelves. Leon was taken a little aback by this quite unusual choice of decoration. «Have a seat, Mr Kennedy.» The man sitting behind the desk said.

Leon took a seat, feeling a little uncomfortable with all the dead animals gazing down on him as if he were being judged and evaluated by them. «So, you've come to our little department, in our little town, straight from the academy.» The man behind the desk mused more or less to himself as he browsed through a file.

Nodding calmly to the comment, Leon tried to relax in his chair. «Well, I'm chief Irons and I'll be looking forward to have you at my station.» Chief Irons said, actually smiling. Usually smiling puts other people at ease, but when chief Irons smiled, it had the opposite effect.

«Sir, if I may ask, is there a reason to why I was called into this meeting?» Leon wondered. «Of course there is.» Chief Irons said assuring, and again it had the opposite effect on Leon. «I just want to have a few details on the table before letting you loose in the field.» He explained.

Sounded fair enough, though as far as Leon knew he'd filled out all the sheets and forms required, he'd given them his whole life story on a silver plate. What more was there to ask about? «Do you believe in God?» Chief Irons asked, putting on a pair of glasses and getting ready to take notes.

Puzzled, Leon looked like a big question mark as he sat in the chair. «Uhm, honestly sir, I'm what one might call «Christian on paper only», if you catch my meaning.» Leon frowned. «Good, good, I catch your drift Mr Kennedy.» Chief Irons jotted down some notes before looking up.

«Do you have any faith in the supernatural at all?» Chief Irons asked then. At this point, Leon was quite literary stunned. «I don't see how...» He began, but stopped halfway as chief Irons raised his hand, indicating that he'd explain.

Chief Irons leaned back in his chair and started to explain. «You see, in this town we have a tiny little urban legend.» He began. «Weird things happens around here and in the heart of all this is one subject, one individual, one man.» Leon leaned forward, nodding his head slightly. «I can assure you that the weird cases in this town is a mere product from the twisted, distorted and sick minds that lives within the city limits.» Chief Irons said.

Leon took a small moment to think things over. Such things weren't unheard of and some cities had more than others, but what was the chief's angle? «At any rate.» Chief Irons said as he leaned over his desk again. «I need my men to catch the REAL bad guys, not chasing after some ghost that's a product of people's imagination.» He practically snorted out the last part with a poorly hidden disgust.

Choosing his words a little bit more carefully than usually, Leon replied: «You don't have to worry about me, sir. Seeing is believing I've always said.»Chief Irons on the other hand wasn't all that impressed. «That's what your predecessor, detective McCoy said.» He grunted before dismissing Leon.

Back at his new desk, Leon was busy with putting his stash in place when a co-worker came up to him. «Okay, time to get that thumb out of your ass and give you some work.» He laughed as he slapped Leon over the shoulder. «I was wondering when someone would drop that on me.» Leon, being polite, smiled back before he got a police file tossed into his lap.

Taking the file that the officer handed him, the first thing he noticed was that it was a murder and a pretty nasty one at that. They sure don't give the newcomers any slack around here, do they? Leon thought to himself.

«Name's Marvin Branagh by the way.» Marvin said over his shoulder. Following his colleague, Leon read the file as they headed over to the garage. «So what do we have here? A women found in a backstreet with her throat... erm, bitten off?» Leon said more or less to himself.

They entered a standard patrol car, with Marvin behind the steering-wheel and Leon in the back. «Yeah, and that was no dog that bit her either.» Marvin pointed out. Flipping the page, Leon saw his point in full colour images. «Holy...» Leon began, and he'd probably finished, if his stomach had let him. «He-he-he, welcome to homicide detective.» Marvin chuckled from the drivers seat.

It wasn't much of a drive. The girls name was Lei Fang, nationality Chinese, age 19, height 163cm and a weight of 50kg. «No dog, huh?» Leon asked his co-worker as they looked over the scene of the crime. The body had been removed, the C.S.I. team had swept over anything of significance. All that remained were a large stain of blood and a ghostly silhouette drawn out in white chalk.

Marvin nodded at his words. «She came home from work most likely, the laundry service around the corner and a little down the street.» He said, pointing down the street. «Met someone, chatted, got spooked, ran down this backstreet and...» Leon rose from his crouch near the blood stain.

«Met someone?» He asked puzzling. «Marvin halted his reconstruction of the course of events. «Why yeah, did you miss that part in the file?» He asked Leon. Leon raised his eyebrows for a moment before he turned his attention to the file again.

As he read it more carefully, his eyes widened. «Bite-marks on the victims neck and shoulder appears to be human!» He exclaimed. «Uh-huh, like I said, it was no dog.» Marvin nodded. «I'll head over to the noodle shop and ask the owner the standard questions.» He told Leon, strangely enough acting rather unaffected by the nature of the crime.

Nodding, Leon spun slowly around on his heels, taking in the scenery. That's when he noticed it. He felt as if a pair of eyes were watching him. Could it be the killer? It wasn't uncommon for killers to return to the scene of the crime to gloat over their deed. If you're sick enough to nearly bite a girls head off, you sure are sick enough to come back to remember the «good times».

Being calm and cautious, Leon reached inside his jacket and pulled out his gun. It was a H&K VP70 manufactured by H&K Germany, using 9mm parabellum rounds. It wasn't much of a deviation from the standard sidearm that police officers used. The standard was a Browning HP, manufactured by FN, Belgium, which also used 9mm parabellum rounds.

The main reason for Leon's deviation was bullet capacity. The VP70 had 18 bullets total, 17 in the clip and 1 bullet in the barrel. The Browning on the other hand had only 13 bullets total, 12 in the clip and 1 in the barrel. Although the guns packed roughly speaking the same fire-power, it couldn't possible hurt to have 5 bullets extra.

Leon got a good grip around his gun and walked slowly towards where he assumed his watcher was standing. «Okay, quit playing games. This is a crime scene, come out whomever you are.» He called out to the empty street. A dripping sound gave away the spectator's location.

Straight from the book, Leon rounded the crates and put his gun in front of himself. «R.P.D! Put your hands where I can see them.» He called out to the man that just stood there. «Relax, I'm just taking a piss here.» The man replied, completely unaffected by Leon's barking orders or his gun for that matter.

The man finished his business and raised his hands calmly. Tilting his head slightly, he looked at Leon. «G'day officer. Was there something in particular that you wanted, other than show me your shiny pistol?» He asked Leon, soundly mildly amused. Leon took a moment to look at the man more carefully.

He was tall, a good 200cm, give or take 10cm, looked like he was in either his mid or late 20's, silver white hair, ice blue eyes and weighing a good 90kg. There was something about this man that just got Leon spooked on a primal level, as if it was an instinct to avoid people like this man.

Although he was smirking, it was obvious as daylight that whomever crossed this man's path didn't live to tell the tale unless he wanted it that way. Being dressed in a mix of dark red and black solid leather, the man looked like he had been spat out of some Gothic themed anime show. Only thing missing was a huge sword and you'd have the whole package, Leon thought to himself.

Even though the sword was missing, Leon quickly noticed that the man was indeed armed with a pistol of his own. Pistol might be an understatement, the thing looked more like a small sized cannon. «Do you have a firearms license for that toy of yours?» Leon asked, nodding down at the gun.

The man was slightly offended by his question, as if he'd say: «of course, never leave home without it» with his facial expression alone. Slowly, the man fished out a piece of paper and handed it gently over to Leon. Even when he scanned through the firearms license, Leon didn't take the chance of lowering his gun. This guy reeked too much of trouble for that.

However, the firearms license checked out, making Leon feel a little bit more at ease, though not by much. «Where's the other gun? It says here you have two, custom made both of them.» Leon asked. The man gently turned slightly around so that his other side was visible to Leon. There it rested on the man's other thigh.

Cute, this guy wears a gunbelt as if he was some sort of cowboy, Leon mused. «What are you doing here?» He asked the tall silvery haired man. «First I took a stroll, then I wanted to pick up my laundry at the store around the corner when I needed to take a piss.» He explained. «That's it?» Leon asked sceptically. The man nodded.

Putting his gun away, Leon figured that he might as well ask the man some of the same question Marvin were asking the owner of the laundry service. «I'd like to ask you some questions.» He began. The man rolled with his eyes, but decided to humour Leon nevertheless.

«Do you use Mr Fu's laundry service often?» Leon asked, fishing up a notepad and a pen from his jacket pocket. «I'm one of his oldest customers.» The man replied quickly. «Are you familiar with this girl?» Leon asked, handing over a recently taken photo of the deceased. «Lei Fang, cute girl who worked part time at the laundry service, killer body, no boyfriend to my knowledge and she's my type too.» The man shrugged before he turned the picture back to Leon.

Leon jotted down some more notes before he moved on to the next question. «No boyfriend, huh?» He mumbled more or less to himself as he looked over his notes. Glancing up at the man two things puzzled Leon.

First off the man had yet to ask what this was all about, which most people do when questioned by the police and they don't tell you straight away what the questioning is all about. The people who didn't was either involved, they knew something or was too used to this kind of thing to give a flying fuck.

The second thing was of course that they were just a few feet away from a blood stain large as a unfolded bed sheet. The man remained unaffected or perhaps he hadn't noticed just yet. Leon assumed that this guy had seen blood before and been entangled into cops before, since he acted as if this was a daily thing to him.

«Did you know Ms Fang well?» Leon asked. «She was working hard to save money for a china dress she wanted to have tailor made for her.» The man replied. «That's not much of an answer.» Leon objected. «The master tailor was out when she stopped by, so she gave her order to his apprentice.» The man carried on, ignoring Leon's objections.

Leon raised an suspicious eyebrow. Why was this guy telling him this? «Just answer the question yes or no.» He said finally. «I've told you all that I know officer. You'll be on your own from here on. Now if you'll excuse me.» The man said before he left for the laundry service.

If it had been someone else, Leon would probably have held him or her back for more questions, but with this guy... there was just no way Leon could summon the courage to go against him. Just standing near that man – it made Leon feel fear crawl around his bones. All he could do was watch as the man walked around the corner and out of view.

Not long after that, Marvin came back. «What's with you? You look like you've seen a ghost.» Marvin said in a worried tone. «I interviewed this by passer and... for some reason he gave me the creeps.» Leon sighed, actually feeling better now that he wasn't alone anymore. «Just let it rest buddy.» Marvin advised.

Back on the station, Leon went over his notes to write a report. After reading through the notes, he felt that there was something missing. Replaying the interview in his mind, he remembered that the strange man didn't answer his last question, he'd said something else. What was it again? Something about a dress and a tailor, no a tailor's apprentice, that's what it was.

Leon's computer screen illuminated his desk and he sat there, looking at it, resting his hands at the top of his head. How very frustrating. The universe didn't make much sense at times such as these. Perhaps the guy was too scared to raise answers that could make certain people in China-town look bad? No, that wasn't it. It was something different, something obvious as... trust.

«If you're going after D, you better do your homework first.» A woman's voice came from behind. Leon slowly turned around in his chair and looked over his shoulder. There, in the doorway stood a woman, dressed in a dark pink dress, flat black shoes, big black belt around her waist, ear short hair and a white lab coat with an ID tag on her left side. «D?» He asked her puzzled.

The woman entered the room, a slow, calm and collected pace. «Dr Ada Wong, the forensic geek around here.» She said, offering a handshake. «Leon Kennedy, homicide.» Leon replied, taking her hand and shaking it. Warm, soft and gentle hand with a firm handshake he noted. Lovely perfume too.

«D is just a short for Dante, the P.I. you ran into during your trip to the crime scene.» She said. «Why should I do any homework around a P.I. that looks more like a freelance mercenary?» Leon asked her, offering her a cup of coffee.

Dr Wong accepted and chugged it down without a flinch despite being steaming hot. «He's our urban legend, you shouldn't get involved unless you're willing to go the full mile, like me.» She said, crunching the paper cup in her hand before tossing it in the trashcan.

Leon gave her a suspicious look. «By saying that, you're just making me more interested.» He said after a while. «Either that or scared enough to let it be.» Dr Wong said, narrowing her eyes. «Like Marvin?» Leon asked directly. «Like Marvin.» She agreed with a faint nod, not taken aback by his bluntness.

Thinking over what to ask next, Leon figured he might as well go down the painfully obvious path for a while. «I take it that you're the one that's the victim's dissector?» He asked the doctor. She cast a small glance at him, as if she wondered if he was really that dumb to be serious with his question.

«Yes, I'm the only one in town qualified.» Dr Wong replied. Leon had to ask a question which answer would most likely trouble him regardless of its nature. «What makes you think that the victim was bitten by a human?» He asked her, holding his breath as he awaited her reply.

«Cold hard evidence detective.» Dr Wong replied indifferently. «No idea of who did it?» Leon asked, shrugging a little as he spoke. «Not really, I just gather the facts, you put them together to make the grand picture.» She said, not affected by the subject at hand.

As far as Leon could tell, Dr Wong had her hands on dry land, yet that didn't mean that she was automatically telling him the whole story. He was after all the new kid on the block, so there was a lot of internal issues he'd to cut through. «Why do I get the feeling that you're holding back key issues related to the case.» Leon decided to move a little over to the offensive.

Leon had to admit that he was a little worried that his comment would either scare Dr Wong away or put their newly founded relationship on unsteady ground. «Just follow the pieces detective, then the full picture will reveal itself to you.» Dr Wong replied before she left.

Following the pieces was just the thing to do, whether it was Dr Wong's advice or not. As far as Leon was concerned, there was just one loose thread left to wind up; the tailor that this Dante character mentioned. Of course there was Dante himself, however Leon was reluctant to go down that path.

Taking a drive to China-town, Leon looked around to see if there was a tailor shop near the scene of the crime. Leon slapped his forehead slightly. Dante did mention that the girl had worked a lot to save money for the dress, so she probably told her employer all about it. Surely he would know where the tailor shop was.

Walking in to Mr Fu's laundry service, Leon quickly spotted the owner of the establishment. Gen Fu was a Chinese man at the age of 65, 170cm tall, blue eyes (quite unusual for an Asian), white shaved hair and beard. His english was so and so, but Leon managed to get himself understood and Mr Fu drew down a small map for him.

Under the guidance of the map given to him by Mr Fu, Leon navigated the crowded streets of China-town until he stood in front of a quite small tailor's shop. Much to his disappointment, the shop was currently closed. Leon would have to go through some different channels to get inside, but that would take the rest of the day.

After calling a judge to get a warrant, Leon decided to do some general digging after clues that would shine more light on this P.I. named Dante. The question was where to start. Leon didn't have his full name, address or phone number. A P.I. usually had a office of some sort, so he might be listed in the yellow pages.

Walking up to the nearest phone booth, Leon scanned through the yellow pages looking for the name Dante. It was after all a little unusual name, so he could hit the jackpot. After looking through the pages for the third time, Leon figured it was no good. «Better call it the day and get some rest.» He said to himself as he stretched and yawned a little.

Early the next day Leon was more than ever determined to find out every little piece of information on this Dante character. Best bet was to go after Dr Wong and pump her for what she was worth and take it from there. A good plan that went down the drain once Leon learned that Dr Wong had cashed in 3 days worth of holiday to take a long weekend off duty out of town.

No cellphone, no bleeper, no address, no nothing. When she skipped town, there were no loose threads. It made Leon wonder why, but decided to put his energies elsewhere. The police did most likely have a file on the guy. Since Leon never got his last name it would make it a little bit harder to look him up, but it was still doable. After all, he was a detective.

Leon headed over to Marvin's office to try his luck there. «Good morning Marvin.» Leon greeted him as they met at the soda machine not too far away from Marvin's office. «Morning Leon, you're an early bird aren't you?» Marvin replied, cheerful as always. «Listen, I need to check some thing's up and was wondering if you could help me out.» Leon started off casually enough not to scare Marvin off.

«I'm in for a rather calm day today, well at least in theory as you never know.» Marvin laughed, but clearly agreed to help Leon out the best he could. «Do we have a file on that P.I. I met yesterday? Dante?» Leon asked, praying that Marvin wouldn't be spooked. Marvin's cheerfulness faded away at Leon's question.

Shit, Leon thought. He's going to bail out on me. «Listen, a small word of advice; don't go down there, man.» Marvin said seriously. «Just point me out to the file, if there is one, and I'll do the rest on my own.» Leon told him, hoping that Marvin at the very least had the nerve to get that much involved. «I don't know, man.» Marvin looked around nervously. Was he seriously suspecting that Dante would pop out of nowhere like some sort of boogie-man?

«Just don't go there, man. If you have to, just ask around at the archive, but don't do it.» Marvin said before making a hastily departure. Left alone, Leon was puzzled and quite amazed that one guy could scare a cop so much. Dr Wong did mention that Dante was somewhat of an urban legend, but this was surreal.

Arriving at the archive, Leon asked the guys working there for the file on Dante. The two guys working there, looked at one another, then at Leon. «You're the new guy, right?» One of them asked. «Yeah, just arrived yesterday.» Leon said. «Makes sense then.» The other archivist said to the first one. «What makes sense?» Leon asked puzzled. «Well, all the guys here know that there's no file on Dante.» The first one explained.

Leon's heart sank down in defeat. Could a guy like Dante keep his hands so dry and clean that the cops had nothing on him? Marvin did mention that Dante had friends in high places, so maybe... Leon's thoughts were interrupted by the second archivist's next words: «Yeah, when it comes to Dante there's not enough room for everything in a single file.» A glimpse of hope.

«So there are many files on him then?» Leon insisted, ignoring that the two archivists had played a little trick on him. «Yes, many files.» The first one said. «I'd like to see them, all of them.» Leon said. «All 3000?» The second archivist frowned at Leon. 3000...?

For the rest of the day, Leon sat at his desk, browsing through a ton of material, all about this «urban legend» called Dante. They were all cases, charges for just about everything imaginable, but not one case had got Dante convicted. It was so out of this world that Leon thought he was on the brink of something big.

The cases were old as dust, some of them almost 20 years old. For the majority of the cases, they were dropped because of the status of the evidence, lack of it or witnesses bailing out, altering their testimony or some other last minute changes in the prosecution's plan.

A selected few cases had Dante standing side by side by some top dollar attorney that could convince any given judge and jury that Santa Clause killed J.F.K., or at least so their reputation claimed. At any rate, there was no way Dante could afford this kind of legal protection. Someone rich and powerful was slipping big dollars under the table on Dante's behalf. Why?

A good hour after lunch Leon had finally came up with something useful. It was a list of some very special individuals that, from time to time, had both hired Dante and helped him out when he was dragged to court for whatever reason. «I guess I better get going. The answers aren't dropping into my lap, so I'll have to hunt them down myself.» Leon sighed and left to interview the people on his list.

First stop was Luigi Leone, a guy that ran and owned the «Sexclub 7» in the red-light district. It wasn't the kind of joint that Leon'd hang around on Saturday nights, but that was beside the issue. Walking up to the bar, he asked around for Luigi and when the barkeeper asked who was asking, Leon just put his badge on the table.

A couple of minutes later Luigi came over and took a seat at Leon's table. «New kid on the block, huh?» Luigi grunted, acting as if he was somebody. It was all a facade, a paper-thin facade. «Tell me about this guy.» Leon said, also putting up an tough act, as he handed Luigi a big black and white photo. «Cute guy, your boyfriend?» Luigi asked.

Leon put up a fake smile, then turned serious. He wasn't going to budge, even if this guy was a pimping gangster with a Mafia family to back him up. «Listen kid, I'm gonna be straight with you.» Luigi said, leaning forward and putting the photo away. «Stay away from D, you hear?»

That didn't take long, Leon thought. «Would you be angry if I didn't?» Leon asked, not backing down. «Angry? Hell no, it's just that... it ain't worth it kid.» Luigi said. «What is?» Leon insisted. «You know, getting involved.» Luigi said as if it explained everything. «I'll take my chances, now are you going to tell me what you know or what?» Leon asked.

Luigi leaned back in his seat, rubbing his lips and chin while weighing one option against the other. «Okay, the guy comes here on a regular basis. He's a fine customer, treats the ladies with respect and that's about it.» He said finally. He's scared and holding back, Leon thought. «Is that why you put in $500.000 to get him a decent attorney a few months back?» Leon asked, casually throwing a copy of the file on the table.

After a small pause he added: «He must be one hell of a customer indeed.» Luigi was clearly getting uncomfortable in his seat. He couldn't wiggle himself out of this one, but telling the truth was clearly not an option either. «He's... done some... favours for me in the past.» He admitted.

«Favours?» Leon asked, nodding as if urging Luigi to continue. «Yeah, we go way back.» Luigi said, fixing himself a smoke. «School buddies?» Leon asked. «No.» Luigi said, in a tone that suggested that Leon was a moron for thinking so. «What kind of favours?» Leon asked, letting Luigi's little insult slide.

Puffing out smoke, Luigi looked around at his place. It was a nice place, if you were into that kind of thing that is. First thing you saw when entering was a huge T shaped stage with poles in it for the girls to swing around on. On the side walls were mini stages with a single pole in the same fashion as the main stage. The the back, to the left was the bar and in the lower right corner there was a sofa corner. Other than that, various tables and chairs were scattered about.

«You see this joint?» Luigi asked. «Scum used to hang around here, then D came along and cleaned it up real nice. It allowed me to establish my business, you know.» Leon felt that he'd pushed his luck far enough. «Scum» was a big and quite vague term amongst guys like Luigi, but at least it was something. Dante wasn't just a P.I. after all.

Next man on the list, Toni Leone. He ran a little outdoor restaurant along with his retired mother. This time, a badge wasn't enough to get questions asked. Leon was practically thrown out and told that if he ever wanted anything in here aside from a casual meal, he'd better bring a warrant.

Joey Leone was a young guy who worked at his own garage down by the harbour. «Yeah, I know D, he's a guy you can count on whenever you're in a pinch.» Joey said, sniffing a little as he spoke. «I've heard that's he done some favours for Luigi in the past.» Leo said, hinting towards Joey. «Nothing like that around here. I had him stake out one of my girls a couple of years back, but that was a job, not a favour.» Joey replied, still sniffing.

«Was there a reason why you had her staked out by Dante?» Leon asked curiously, since it seemed like overkill to him. «I never got to meet her during the day, always after sunset she told me. I figured that she was double-dealing, so I wanted D to check it out.» Joey explained. «Was she?» Leon asked, clearly pushing his luck. «Nawh, she was just sleeping all day long, so I dumped her.» Joey answered.

Looking at his list, Leon figured that all three of them had something to hide. They might be telling the truth, but they weren't telling it flat out. The last half was being held back. Where these guys afraid of Dante? How could key individuals in an Italian Mafia family be afraid of one guy?

Perhaps Salvatore Leone had some answers. He was after all, top on the food-chain, at least in that Italian Mafia. Getting in wasn't easy, since Mr Leone was a busy man with a lot of things to attend. No doubt, these guys practically owned all of Portland, aside from China Town and a few streets reserved for the Diablos street-racing gang.

Although it took some effort and a lot of waiting, Mr Leone didn't disappoint. It was more on the contrary. «Dante is a good friend of this family. He's been generous, helpful and over the years, proven to be quite irreplaceable to us.» The aged Mr Leone said. «Luigi mentioned that he'd helped him getting his business established by cleaning it up for scum and your son, Joey, said he used Dante to stake out one of his former girlfriends.» Leon summarized.

Mr Leone nodded at Leon's summary. «And that's just a fraction of what he has done for us, and in most cases he didn't charge us a cent.» Leon took a small leap of faith and said: «Your younger brother, Toni, seemed quite reluctant to discuss Dante with me.» Mr Leone smiled at Leon. «His mother has a bad experience with cops and she did raise him after all.» Mr Leone apologized.

Feeling a little braver thanks to his previous success, Leon went out «fishing» again. «How can one man become irreplaceable for someone like you and your family?» He asked. «By doing the things that no other man can or are willing to do.» Mr Leone smiled. Judging from his tone of voice, Leon figured that the meeting was over. A few minutes later he was proven right.

It was getting late and Leon decided to head back to his apartment to get some rest. He still had 2 more people on his list to interview, but right now it'd be both rude and dangerous to ask questions. After all, tomorrow was another day.

From the shadowy alley across the street a figure watched Leon's movements as he caught a cab and drove off. The figure remained still, sitting on a motorcycle, lost in thought. It picked up a cellphone and speed-dialed a number. It rang a few times before there was a reply at the other end. «It's me, what did the cop want?» The figure asked. It listened to the answer and then hung up.


	2. Intoccabile

**Intoccabile **

Another day, another chance to get something done. Leon was chewing down his breakfast while casting casual and half interested glances at the morning news on the TV. Today he was determined to get some straight answers regarding this Dante character. He didn't know much at this point, but the few pieces he had, only served as fuel for his curiosity.

The first subject he'd interview was a Japanese woman named Asuka and a last name Leon had given up trying to read, let alone pronounce. She had a rather flashy looking house down at Newport on Staunton Island. Officially speaking she was the co-owner of a casino along with her brother Kenji, though on the unofficial side they both were the leaders of the local Yakuza.

Although Mafia is not a perfect match to describe what the Yakuza is, it's the closest thing western culture has that fits the bill. At any rate, they weren't people you'd slap in the face for no reason, since they had a nasty habit of taking it out on your family, friends, dear ones and pets before they even started on you.

The siblings Asuka and Kenji were however masters in keeping their hands clean. This was much due to the strict sense of loyalty that hung over the Yakuza thugs like a thick pulp. They'd lie their asses off in court, taking bullets, 25 years to lifetime and death sentence without a moments hesitation. All for their senpai's.

With this in mind it was strange that Asuka had paid over 1.5 million US dollar to keep Dante away from the claws of the court. Lawyers, bail and even bribes all piled up. Some squealers that the police had on record claimed that Asuka recently paid $ 250.000 for Dante's «services», straight from her own pockets.

These squealers however were never heard of since they leaked that info to the police. That didn't stop Leon from going straight to the core of things, more on the contrary. Of course he'd to step lightly or he'd be fished out of the river at best, though the most likely outcome would be that he'd end up as another missing person case, unsolved.

Since his Jeep was in for repairs, Leon had to take a patrol car to Newport, which again could scare Asuka off. Not in a manner that she'd run and hide, but more like putting up her guard and keeping her mouth shut on «certain topics.» Having the right to remain silent could really be stretched into abuse sometimes.

Strangely enough Leon was given a warm welcome at Asuka's residence. Although there were a couple of guys glaring at him from behind their shades, he wasn't shown the door the moment he presented himself. «Good morning detective.» A woman's voice came from the pool. «Good morning Asuka-san.» Leon nodded.

Floating on an air bed in the pool, Asuka glanced over her sunglasses. «You're familiar with Japanese honorifics?» She asked him, actually sounding a little impressed. «I used to watch Ghost In The Shell – Stand Alone Complex when I was a kid.» Leon explained. «Perhaps it even helped you choose your profession.» Asuka-san smiled faintly. Leon wasn't quite sure how to reply, so he just smiled back.

«What do you want, detective?» She asked, turning her attention back to her sunbathing. «Information.» Leon said bluntly. Asuka-san chuckled at his response. «I'm no oracle detective.» She pointed out. «I don't think you need to be an oracle to know one or two things about Dante.» Leon said, monitoring her reaction.

Asuka-san remained calm, but her smile faded away. «Yes, rumours had it that there was a detective asking around Dante-sama.» She said with a sigh. «Why does a honest woman like you listen to rumours only whispered in the criminal underworld?» Leon asked. «It comes with the job. It's not just honest tourists that comes to my brother's casino you know.» She replied.

Leon's mind was working overtime. He'd heard the honorific -sama before, but couldn't for the life of him remember what it meant. «Me and my brother has known Dante-sama for a long time. Almost 10 years.» Asuka-san said, while she was reflecting over memories of the past. «How did you meet?» Leon asked.

«At a china-town restaurant.» Asuka-san grunted. «He saved our lives.» She added. «What did he do? Kept the water from boiling over?» Leon asked, only to bite his tongue. He was pushing his luck, so he better be sure to mind his steps from now on. «No, he sawed our killer in half with a chainsaw.» Asuka-san replied, not affected by Leon's little sarcastic remark.

Leon's eyes widened with disbelief. «Quite a feat for an 11 year old, no?» She smiled. «And before you ask; no, I will not say those words in court under oath.» Asuka-san added. «So you feel that you owe him your life?» Leon asked. «Yes, when I was 18 I even walked down to his office to offer him my virginity as a token of my gratitude.» Asuka-san smirked.

Although he was curious, Leon didn't push the subject any further. It seemed that he made a poor performance in hiding his curiosity, since Asuka-san said: «He turned down my offer flat.» Dante seemed to be quite street-smart. After all, you don't just go ahead and have fun with the daughter of a Yakuza gang leader. Then again, a decline could be interpreted as an insult.

«Over the years we've had our fair share of troublemakers.» Asuka-san carried on. «The police are slow, sloppy and inefficient in dealing with such troublemakers, so whenever there's someone we can't handle on our own, we call Dante-sama.» She concluded.

Scratching his chin a little, Leon figured he could afford one last question before bailing out. «Where's Dante-sama's office?» He asked her carefully. «In a backyard alley in the Red-light district in Portland.» Asuka-san replied indifferently. Leon thanked her for taking her time talking to him before he left.

Peeking over her shades, Asuka-san watched as Leon's car quietly drove off. «How did I do?» She asked out of the blue. «Quite good.» Dante replied, looking down from the balcony. «Dante-sama?» Asuka-san asked him. «Yeah?» Dante mumbled as he downed his cocktail. «Isn't he dangerous?» Asuka-san sounded worried.

Gazing at his reflection in the empty glass, Dante thought for a moment. «That man is not dangerous. He's an opportunity.» He replied before putting the glass away. Asuka-san had to admit that she didn't see whatever Dante-sama saw in detective Kennedy, but she respected his decision.

Leon had arrived at the red-light district without too much trouble, though his police car did attract a little too much unwanted attention for Leon's comfort. Drug dealers, whores and low life scum drifted around in this neighbourhood. Home sweet home for a guy like Dante, Leon thought.

He looked around for a while, but didn't see any hints of which shabby building might house Dante's office. Giving up on that track for now, Leon looked down on his list again. Just one name left; El Burro, leader of the Diablos street-racing gang. If it had an engine and a set of wheels, they drove it. What connection did they have with Dante?

Knocking on what was known as their «main garage», Leon wasn't quite sure what to expect. «Yeah? Whaddya want?» A man grunted through a small sliding window on the door. «I'd like to talk to El Burro.» Leon said, showing his badge. «You with traffic?» The man demanded in the same rough tone. «No, I'm with homicide.» Leon said.

The window shut closed, some rattling with multiple locks could be heard on the other side of the garage door before it was opened. The metallic moaning of the garage door rang through the large garage.

Essentially the place looked like taken straight from MTV's «Pimp my ride», with old, new and super-styled up cars lined up along the walls. Some were all done, others were work in progress, while a selected few looked pretty much like a lost cause. However, if these boys were given some time to do their magic, it'd be hard to tell what the old heaps of car-scrap would look like.

Even though cars were the dominating type of vehicle in the garage, there were some custom made bikes too. Choppers seemed to be the new hype, Leon noted. «El Burro will be with you in a sec.» The door man replied, still without the slightest hint of manners. Leon just nodded slightly.

After a few minutes, El Burro came over to Leon. It was clear that he was upset, perhaps because some of the cars in his garage didn't really look all THAT legal by American standard. «Why you come here? There been no killing by me, by my boys or anything.» El Burro demanded. «I'm not here for some killing, I'm just here for some information.» Leon patiently explained.

That didn't seem to brighten El Burro's mood. «Me no squealer!» He shouted, waving his arms around. «You have a stiff price on the vehicle's you make, so I was wondering why you'd GIVE away your masterpiece to a man called Dante.» Leon said, cutting trough El Burro's protests.

El Burro froze solid at the mention of Dante's name. For a fraction of a second, he looked like he might actually punch Leon straight in the face, though thankfully Leon was saved by El Burro's cellphone.

Answering the phone in a harsh voice, El Burro's face turned pale as newly washed towels when he heard who was on the other end of the line. «It's me. By now you probably have a cop in your garage called Leon S. Kennedy.» El Burro just nodded weakly. «Answer his questions honestly, just skip the details.» Again, El Burro nodded. «Be good, donkey.» Then the conversation ended.

El Burro put away his cellphone and looked nervously at Leon. «Let us go to my office.» He said finally. The office laid in the back of the garage. Once inside, El Burro took a seat behind his desk and offered Leon a seat as well.

The office was messy to say the least. Paper work was flowing all over the place and old McDonald's, Burger King and other fast food containers spread around just to add flavour and colour to the scene. Charming indeed, Leon thought.

«I gave Dante that bike because... well, let's face it, the man's worth it.» El Burro didn't beat around the bush any more. Leon wondered if it somehow was related to the phone he'd just taken. «The Yakuza is also paying him top dollar for his services, though as far as I can tell he's doing the same job as any other thug.» Leon said.

El Burro shook his head and folded his hands on top of his messy desk. «Dante isn't just any man. Those who think that are already dead.» He said seriously. «So he's good at what he does?» Leon asked. «Si.» El Burro agreed eagerly. «What does he do?» Leon asked.

Sinking back in his chair, El Burro looked like he was thinking hard over how to formulate his reply. «He solves «special problems».» He said after a while. «Define «Special problems».» Leon shot back. «They're... too big... or... too dangerous... or too... scary for others to do.» El Burro replied, gesturing with his hands as he spoke.

A man without fear. Granted they're rare, but still... these were the towns top criminal masterminds. Surely they knew how to get some skilled dude from L.A. or New York to come over and do some contracted work for them.

Meanwhile at Francis International Airport, a young guy arrived by plane. He'd come over for a change of graze. Being a small time crook, he figured he'd be luckier here than in his home-town. Scott Stapp was a standard teenager gone bad through being neglected by his parents, early introduction to drugs, guns, women and rock 'n' roll.

Car-jacking was his speciality, but his skilled fingers also drifted off into peoples wallets whenever the chance presented itself. Feeling a bit lucky, he figured he'd scope around in the more shadowy places of town for some sort of «employment».

He took the subway all the way to Portland where he quickly pointed out the direction to the local red-light district. It was like a sixth sense for him, he could sniff out other men and women like him just about anywhere. Of course this was his first trip out of his own town, so his sixth sense might not be all that special at the end of the day after all.

Putting up a bad-ass attitude, making sure he got his pocket-knife ready inside his pocket, Scott decided to look up a bar of some sort where he could get the foot in the door. Sexclub 7 looked promising, but they demanded a paying fee for entry so that was out of the question.

Loafing around some more, Scott found a shabby looking joint in a backyard alley. The red neon sign hissed a little angry electrical sparkling. The joint was so hidden and looked so shabby that Scott figured he'd hit the jackpot.

Walking in under the red neon sign that read: Devil May Cry, Scott wasn't really expecting it to be buzzing with life, but at least there would be someone there. However, once inside, Scott was proven wrong. The place was nothing less but deserted. More over it didn't really look like a bar or something like that.

Sure, there was a set of drums in one corner, a pool table in another, stereo speakers nailed to the walls close under the ceiling and some of the freakiest décor Scott'd ever seen. Masks, or whatever they were, of all sorts of weird movie monsters hung on one wall. Each and every one of them was incredibly detailed and well made. They even looked real to Scott.

All of the heads were attached to the wall by having a large sword, spear or something of a similar fashion stabbed straight through it. «Great, a goth joint.» Scott grunted. Maybe there was something around here worth stealing? Something small that could easily be sold on for a fistful of dollars.

Looking around the desk, Scott fumbled around in the various drawers. He found a lot of weird stuff, but nothing that struck him as valuable. He noticed that there was a single picture standing on the desk. Looking at it, he gave a whistle. «Wow, what a babe.» A blonde lady, with a warm smile on her nearly perfect lips and the prettiest pair of blue eyes a mortal man could ask for was on the photograph.

Putting the picture aside, Scott heard a car coming up. Being smart enough not to be caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he dashed into the back and hid. A couple of men entered, calling for someone. «Dante-sama?» After a few tries they left something behind and split.

Crawling out from his hiding place, Scott concluded with himself that this was a worthless joint. Besides, the back-room gave him the creeps with all the gunpowder and a well used reloading tool along with bullets and shotgun shells lying about.

He was just about to leave when the new item on the desk caught his attention. It was a brand new Boom Blaster. A baby like that was worth a couple of hundred bucks easily and it'd be easy to take with him too.

Not giving it a second thought, Scott grabbed the stereo system and split. It was a little funny, since the Boom Blaster was a little lighter than he'd thought. Was some parts missing? Perhaps it was broken and those bozo's wanted to have whomever owned Devil May Cry to fix it?

Rounding another corner, Scott sat down and looked at the stereo system from various angles. It looked okay enough. Shaking it a little to hear if there were any loose parts inside, Scott didn't hear the standard clapping sound of mechanical parts being shaken around. He heard a small fluffing sound, as if it was paper or cloth inside.

Curious, Scott looked closer at the Boom Blaster. Quite by chance he notices that the one end of the stereo system could be turned off, like the screw cap on a bottle. Screwing it open, Scott took a peek inside and almost crapped his pants.

Dead presidents, loads of them, every single one of them were inside the Boom Blaster. Thousands of dollars, Scott couldn't believe his luck. Although there should be all sorts of warning bells going off inside his head, he didn't care. Even if there were warning bells going off at red alert, he'd ignore them. You only live once, right?

Since he was now stinking rich, Scott decided to celebrate by buying himself a nice set of wheels. He'd seen a set of wheels ordered from the Diablos gang here in Portland in his own home town. With money apparently not an issue, Scott wanted that kind of wheels.

Parading up to the Diablos garage, Scott knocked on the door and stated his business. «You've got money for that, kid?» The guy asked once Scott pointed out the car he'd like to buy. He couldn't blame them for being sceptical, but that made it all the more sweeter. He'd make them gape at his money.

«Sure thing pops, I've got the dollars for it, right here.» He said and flipped open the Boom Blaster. The whole garage staff gasped at the sight as if they'd seen a ghost. Then without a word they grabbed Scott and threw him out. «What the fuck!» He demanded at the shut garage door.

This time warning bells were ringing in his head, but Scott decided to ignore them. «Fine, if I can't get myself some wheels, I'll get myself some pussy.» He sulked before he headed over to Sexclub 7 just a little up and across the street.

Scott was smart enough not to flash around with his Boom Blaster money bag at the entrance. Instead he took out a few hundred dollar bills and stuffed them in his pocket. That seemed to do the trick as he was given access without any fuzz.

Over at the Diablos garage, El Burro was sweating like a pig as he was nervously waiting for his phone call to come through. «Heee-ey, Dante! It's El Burro.» He tried his best to sound cheerful, though it was no use. «What is it?» Dante grunted at the other end. «Some kid came in here a few minutes to buy some wheels.» El Burro began, wiping sweat from his forehead.

Silence at the other end of the line. «I don't see how that has anything to do with me.» Dante mumbled back. «My boys told me that he'd...» El Burro took a breath. «He'd what?» Dante asked, sounding only remotely interested. «He'd taken your payment.» El Burro said, bracing himself as if Dante was in the same room.

Seconds ticked by and nothing happened. «I swear to you Dante, we threw him out the second we knew. We wouldn't...» El Burro began explaining, but Dante just hung up. An unknown kid had the nerve to walk into his place, take what Dante had earned fair and square through blood and sweat, and now he was going to waste it on whores and booze.

Dante slammed the phone down so hard it crushed under his hand. Stomping off, he grabbed his coat and sword before he entered his garage. Strapping the sword to his back, Dante mounted his bike and drove off.

Asuka-san was always punctual with her payments, so Dante figured that her boys had gotten stuck in traffic or something since the payment wasn't there when he finally had come home. True that he didn't really care all that much about money, but bills did need to be paid every now and then, not to mention that bullets aren't free either.

Every now and then he accepted to charge his clients, for the most part crime lords that wouldn't mind paying up $ 100.000. With that kind of money at hand, Dante could keep his little business going a few months more.

Flipping on his cellphone, Dante decided to raise a little hell and make sure that this new punk learned once and for all that no soul, dead or alive, slaps Dante in the face. Kids these days were easy to predict. They wanted whatever was cool, flashy, sexy or all in one. This kid had already tired cool and flashy, so that left sexy.

Speed-dialling a number, Dante patiently for a reply. «Sex Club 7, Sarah speaking.» A woman's voice came through the phone speaker. «Get me Luigi sweetheart.» Dante said quickly. «May I ask who's calling?» Sarah asked. «D.» Dante replied, parking his bike across the club.

Inside the club Scott had been granted VIP treatment. The best suite of the second floor, a harem of 5 beautiful girls, excellent booze and tasty food to boot. In here only two questions were asked: you've got the money and will you behave? If you could answer yes to both, just about any desire you'd have would be met in the VIP lounge.

Downstairs, Luigi was having a very unpleasant phone call. He'd seen first hand what Dante did when he was «mildly annoyed», so Luigi's tough front evaporated like steam on glowing rocks whenever Dante was unhappy. «Just stay clear of him, Luigi.» Dante told him sharply before hanging up.

Nodding at the bartender, Luigi got a drink, the strongest in the house. Downing it, coughing from the burning sensation of the liquid sliding down his gullet and taking a few deep breaths, Luigi was calm again. His hard front resurfaced as he walked over to some of his boys before he'd to deal with the troublemaker at the 2nd floor.

Scott was having the time of his life; giggling, drinking, eating, groping in questionable places and being a total asshole of a leech. It was over so fast, Scott hardly knew it had happened until he was sitting in the backyard. The doors had been opened with a loud bang, club bouncers stomped inside, girls running for cover, Luigi standing in the back barking orders like a dog in heat and then there was just asphalt and concrete.

Strangely enough they hadn't taken his money. Figuring that his money might be marked, Scott decided to ditch the money, after just one last try. The garage and the club were both connected to the organized crime syndicates in town, that much was obvious even to a guy like Scott. However, there were those who were on the outside of this crime grid.

Coming out around the Sex Club 7, Scott figured that he'd be able to scout out at least one independent whore that would give him a good time. Hell, that one whore might just be how he could start his own little empire. Everyone starts low down in the dirt anyway, so why not him?

Feeling a pair of piercing eyes on him, Scott looked across the street and his eyes met with a tall man dressed in dark red leather sitting on a bike, just waiting. There was something in those eyes, an anger, a hatred, an evil that made Scott want to look away, but his fear kept his eyes firmly in place.

Finally being able to break free, Scott dashed down the street, hugging the stereo system close and tightly to his chest. The man made no effort in following, which scared Scott even more. If he didn't bother chasing Scott, could it mean that there was no escape in the first place?

«Hey watch it fool!» An African-American woman bitched as they collided head on after Scott had rounded a corner. Eyeing her from head to toe for a brief second, Scott figured she'd do as well as any. «Are you on the clock?» He asked her. «Huh? I ain't dressed for church, boy.» She bitched back. Scott ignored her bitching for now and took her reply for an yes.

He's getting desperate, Dante mused to himself as he chewed down some sweets. 3 times the fool, he'd his chance and now it's payback time. With a deep roar, Dante's bike burst into life and he quickly turned around 180 degrees, leaving a black track of burned rubber as he swung around.

Scott had taken the whore to her place and was nervous as hell. It was not his first time with a woman, but to anyone that knew the full extent of his situation would fully understand his nervousness. «Put on some rubber stud.» The whore said, getting undressed. «Fuck that, I don't have time for shit like that.» Scott nervously yelped.

The whore stopped undressing. «My body, my rules fool.» She told him. «I don't want to argue with you bitch, I want to fuck you.» Scott rambled on. Their heated debate was interrupted by the whore's cellphone.

«What's up? Hum? Yeah, I'm with a customer right now, why? Yeah...» The conversation seemed to drag on. Scott did consider jumping her, but that could rise trouble, and that was something he'd rather avoid right now.

Looking at him with fear in her eyes, the whore put her hand in front of her mouth and gasped. «Oh my god! Of course I didn't know! Alright, alright, I'll just...» She quickly threw away her cellphone and practically threw herself towards the door. «Hey, hey, hey... what up bitch?» Scott asked, half angry, half scared out of his wits.

Whimpering could be heard near the door. The whore was actually crying as she struggled with the door locks. She couldn't get it open fast enough, since her hands were visibly trembling. «Shit, fuck!» She cried, sniffing in deep breaths of air. Finally the last lock opened and she flung the door open, stumbling and half running down the hallway.

Scott just remained in the entrance hall, totally stunned, partially in disbelief and partially in fear. What... the... fuck... just happened? He asked himself. Whomever was on the other end of that phone call really had her spooked, just like that big guy on the bike had spooked... Scott...

Halfway down the hallway, the whore stopped so suddenly that she actually fell backwards and landed on her butt. The elevator doors had opened and inside the elevator waited a tall handsome devil of a man. With long and calm steps, he stepped outside the elevator and continued down the hallway.

Scrambling back on her feet, the whore tried her best to fix her looks. «I... just wanted to say... I'm...» She stopped once the man halted and casted her a mildly curious glance. The words cramped up in the middle of her throat. Who was that man, the man behind those dreadful eyes? Breaking down in tears, the whore actually dared to ask herself that question, though not aloud, never. Not even if her lips were torn open.

«I'M SO SORRY!» She cried on the top her voice, sobbing and wailing loudly. It was if the man's mere presence was like torture to the whore, since she was shielding herself with her arms and appeared to be in great pain. «He... he... gave... me... $75... Here...» She stammered, trembling like the last leaf on a dying tree she offered a fistful of dollars to the man. «That's more than... triple... just... please... PLEASE...!» She pleaded. «...don't hurt me.»

Her knees failing to carry the weight of her shaking frame, brought her down to the floor once again. The man just stood there, not saying or doing anything. Then, very carefully he took the money from her hand and counted them. Folding and arranging them carefully, the man handed the money back to the woman. «Your crying is like music.» He told her before he walked further down the hallway.

Scott did have ears on the sides of his head, and it was painfully obvious to him that trouble was coming down the hallway, the kind of trouble you don't survive. Perhaps the whore was dead? She stopped making any sounds so maybe...? FUCK! The word cracked trough Scott's mind like a whip, snapping him back to reality. He was in trouble deep, time to split. Instinct took over.

Dante walked inside the apartment, looking around. How unusual for one of Luigi's girls to bring the customer to her own place. Luigi did own a few joints around in the neighbourhood so that his girls could take their business there. Although nothing more than a squashed cockroach under a man's boot, Luigi did have some good points.

A window got smashed in the back. Shit, he's making a run for it, Dante thought. Instinct took over. Darting back in the kitchen, Dante found no one, just a few dirty footsteps on the kitchen counter, a broken window and the rattling sound of someone climbing down the fire-escape.

Dante was about to follow, but stopped just as he was halfway through the window frame. A new kid in town, he thinks the Mafia is after him, local thugs won't touch him because of that so the only logical place left to go is either run, hide or the cops. Whenever you're the hunter, think like the hunted. Whenever you're the hunted, think like the hunter. You live longer that way.

Scott was out of breath. He hadn't run like that since... kindergarten when he was being chased by a bunch of girls who wanted to dress him up as their kid and play «house». «Oh fuck me...» He breathed. He'd burned a lot of bridges on his first day. He'd even left the money behind at that whore's place. Perhaps he was off the hook?

A nervous glance over the container he was hiding behind gave Scott a new set of images to add to his nightmares. The sucker was already halfway through the window. Wait! He's climbing back inside. Giving up? No, not that kind of mother-fucker. He's the sadistic-psychopath kind that pulled the wings of the flies as a kid. He wanted Scott to die squealing like a dying goat, no doubt about it.

He'd better get clean. There was one place that kind of guy didn't go unless he absolutely had to, the cop's place. Hopefully Scott's little insult wasn't worth the trouble of gunning down a whole police station. Then again he could risk throwing napalm on the fire if this guy was just itching for an excuse to be a large-scale cop-killer. It's hard to tell when dealing with psychopaths.

Entering the police station, Scott walked straight up to the reception, looking nervously over his shoulder every five steps he took. «Sir, may I help you?» The police officer behind the counter asked. «Hell yeah, I need protection.» Scott said, still looking around nervously. «I'm afraid you'll have to be a little more specific, sir.» The officer said politely. «Listen bitch, I've got a goddamn psychopath hot on my ass, so unless you can get a fuckin' S.W.A.T. team down on the fuckin' double, you'll soon be talking to a stiff!» Scott was sweating, trembling and spitting as he spoke.

The officer also looked around, slightly embarrassed over the scene this young man was making for all to see. «Sir, please calm down. You're safe inside this building, so could you please just wait and I'll send an officer to talk to you.» She told him patiently. «Fuck yeah, I'll be safe right? Fuck yeah, an army of cops in da house... in your face fucker.» Scott mumbled as he nervously tripped around as if he really needed to take a piss.

It didn't take long before an officer of the law presented himself. «You're the one that's being stalked? I'm detective Leon Kennedy, nice to meet you.» Leon said, offering his hand to Scott. Scott on the other hand was too darn nervous to do anything other than suck on his cigarette. «Why don't you start form the beginning?» Leon said, taking a seat next to Scott.

After Scott had told him the story, Leon looked at him with a mixed expression. «Unless you want to be put in jail for stealing that stereo system, I don't think there's all that much we can do for you. Clearly you're exaggerating when you say there's a psychopath after your life.» Leon pointed out as gently as he could. Scott shot out of his chair. «Fuck that cop! You don't know spit! You haven't even met the mother-fucker!» Walking back and forth, Scott threw insults around him.

If someone is afraid long enough, they loose rational thinking for a limited period of time. This time period usually ends whenever the subject in question calms down and manages to drain the fear out of his or her system. This was the case with Scott Stapp. 21 years old, he was at the peek of his youth, he had a blade in his pocket and it was time to prove to the world that he was ten times more the man than they thought he was.

Going to the cops was a mistake, a mistake only pussies and bed-wetter's made. Hell this guy, this fucker that was after him... he probably bled and died just like everyone else. Fuck yeah, that made sense. Oh yeah baby! Scott was on a roll. Being on a emotional «high» Scott walked out of the police station and did the thing he would regret for the rest of his life, both seconds of it.

«OYH! MOTHER-FUCKER! It's just like this fool; you and me! One on one!» Scott shouted out in the street. A couple of people in the street stopped up and gave him looks, but for the most part people thought of him as your average junkie or nut-case, nothing new under the sun or anything worth spending time on.

Something big with large wings and arms of steel swooped down and yanked Scott away from the ground. Totally disorientated, Scott failed to get his bearings and fear flared up anew in him. His false courage that had been spawned from his first fear fled from his veins like rats on a sinking ship, leaving only the cold watery feeling of horror splashing around in his system.

The brief flight came to a halt and Scott found himself held by his shirt off the edge of a high building. Looking down on the hands that held him, they were black as a living nightmare, crude skin and fatal fangs. Following the hands were wrists and a pair of strong arms, a solid torso and a horrifying face on top. The face was a covered in the same crude skin that the hands, though caught in a strange blend of dark red, black, white and purple-pink.

Their eyes locked and if Scott thought the dude on the bike had a pair of scary eyes, this... devil was a million times worse. Although he appeared to be blind, there was no doubt that this mother-fucker stared straight down Scott's soul, making it tremble, squeal and run for cover.

His mind froze solid, he couldn't do anything but stare and gape in horror at the creature that held him over the edge. «What's your name, kid?» It asked in a voice that sounded like a thousand needles in Scott's ears. «S-s-s-s-s-Scott Stapp!» Scott managed to yelp out, gasping in fear. «You've stolen from me Mr Stapp. I've sent people to Hell for less.» The devil cleverly remarked.

Scott crapped his pants at this point, it seemed like the only thing he could to at this point. «Oh dear Jesus! Oh God, Oh My fucking God...!» Scott's eyes rolled upwards so that only the white could be seen as he collapsed in a state of shock. The devil pulled him closer and as Scott felt its hideous breath on the side of his face, it heard his last words: «God isn't here, but I am.»

A few hours from dawn, officer Marvin Branagh arrived at yet another crime scene. «What do we have here?» He asked, gulping down a mouthful of pitch black coffee. «Suicide.» Another officer replied. «Awh fuck, young or old?» Marvin asked, putting away his coffee cup. «Young.» A female officer replied from near the body. Looking around in the back alley, Marvin asked: «Jumper or hanger?» The officer replied dully as she browsed through the deceased wallet for an ID: «Jumper, Scott Stapp. Not from around here.»


	3. Trish

**Trish **

It was late Saturday night, sliding slowly towards early Sunday morning in the Red-light district. The streets were for the most part deserted, only the occasional car drove by shining their front lights over the staggering vagabond that wandered aimlessly around the same block over and over again.

A lone hooker was standing in the pouring rain under a lonesome umbrella, wet cold and tired she was just waiting for that one last client. There was just one reason why she did what she did for a living; never to do it again. God how she hated it when they reached inside her and tore loose a fraction of her soul, her innocence and only left some pieces of paper with ink on them for her trouble.

The sound of the pouring rain drowned the hissing sound that came from the manhole cover just across the street. A flickering street light threw a covering flash over the yellow and golden like sparks that crept out from the cracks. Nothing in the street made any attempt in hiding the following steam rising, then again why did they have to? Steam coming up from a manhole cover wasn't really all that unusual.

A car came driving slowly down the street. If it had only come a few seconds later the hooker would have noticed and her common sense would have told her to get the hell out of the way. Yet none of that happened, her tired mind saw only the car and that would soon snatch away whatever was left of her damned soul.

«Hey baby, are you on the clock?» The driver asked her as he pulled over. The manhole cover was shoved carefully aside by a pair of beautiful shaped woman's hands. «Sure sugar, are you looking for a date?» She said, leaning through the car window giving her client a sneak preview on her «merchandise». None of the two noticed the blond lady that came climbing up from the manhole from across the street.

Business went down pretty much as usual; he a horny desk slave looking for some action and fun since he blew his chance of marriage a good decade ago. Her a broken shell of a woman that could have been living a sane life, but made a wrong turn during junior high and would die on the streets she'd grown to hate.

The blond lady walked around and behind the car on quiet naked feet. She wasn't wearing a single thread, nor any shame over her lack of clothing. Without a word or change of facial expression she grabbed the hooker's free arm and twisted it around her back until an audible snap of bones breaking could be heard.

A cry of pain, a moment of shock and disbelief followed by a calm silence. «Got to go, girl talk.» The blond lady told the driver. Locking her other arm around the whore's neck, she surrounded the two of them in a yellow like glow and started sending sparks of the same color flying around her.

He didn't have much of a life, but a damn whore wasn't worth loosing the little he had left, so he closed the window and drove off terrified that he might be next. Fear. What a tickling smell, the blond woman smirked to herself before she attended to the business at hand.

The spell was a simple one, it was basically like hitting the fast forward button on a DVD player. Fast forwarding someone's aging was never a pretty sight, but as hideous as it was to behold, it didn't take less than a minute to reduce the whore to a dried in mummy of skin, bones and clothes.

Dropping the carcase as if it wasn't worth the trouble of holding up, the blond lady knelled down and started to peel of anything that might prove handy. Clothes, money, make-up, ID card, keys to the apartment and some other handy items. «Earth, what a shit hole.» The blond woman snorted as she got dressed. High boots, black tight sitting leather pants and a revealing black leather top that looked a little like a corset, they all hugged her curves perfectly. «So this is something to die for, huh?» She asked her reflection in a puddle.

In another part of town, Dante was running like mad down yet another narrow back alley. It wasn't a job he'd been given by a client, it was more of a random chance to get some killing done. The little rascal was a fast little fucker, but Dante managed to keep up. He'd already taken down 7 of them a few blocks back as they were feeding on a dead dog. The last one had a little more than primitive instincts to keep the brain running, since it took to its senses and tried to make a run for it.

It jumped up and rounded a corner at the same time, its claws scratching high up at the opposite wall before it landed on the ground again and carried on with its desperate escape. Dante followed after in a similar fashion, making a few steps of running along the opposite wall as he too rounded the same corner.

Drawing his gun, Dante quickly slammed in a full clip and opened fire after the demon. 8 angry roars of a gun fired rang through the walls and fled into the open street ahead. Running and shooting at the same time is a hard thing to do, yet Dante had somehow managed to get the hang of it to a certain degree.

For the most part the bullets just grazed the demon, making it leak its blue blood out on the street, but the two last bullets made a home run and hit the demon hard and bad. Loosing its footing, the demon tripped over, rolled forward and landed flat on its back.

It wasn't very big, at the size of a fair sized dog. It just lied there, panting out of breath and drooling badly. Some people had halted their daily routine to watch what the commotion was all about. Dante took no note of them as he walked straight up to the demon and planted another 8 bullets flat in its chest.

For each shot the little body jerked around violently, blood and guts spilled and splashed around as the bullets cut through. Without a word, Dante grabbed it by one of the hind legs and dragged it back to where he'd come from. People stared at him in awe, but Dante took no notice of it. His face was locked in hard determination and his mind was elsewhere.

Dumping the dead demons in the nearest container, Dante put some effort in hiding the dead bodies under standard trash just in case. True that Dante never really gave much of an effort to keep his business a secret, but there was no point in painting it all over the town.

It had been fun, though right now Dante was more in the mood for a few relaxing hours in front of the TV than anything else. Backtracking all the way back to his bike, Dante mounted it and just as he was about to turn the key around he got the feeling that he was being watched.

Looking around, Dante saw no one, however that didn't mean that it was all in his head. After all, Dante was somewhat of an expert when it came to the supernatural so he of all people should know. Then the feeling disappeared as soon as it as arrived.

Feeling that there was a storm brewing, Dante finally turned the key around and drove home. Storms had come and gone before, each time Dante had been the last man standing when another bites the dust. This storm was probably no different from the others.

Well at home, Dante took a shower to wash away the stench of demon blood, gunpowder, sweat and death. Feeling refreshed, Dante walked downstairs to put his sword away and clean his guns. Hanging his sword on the wall, Dante took a seat behind his desk and started taking his pistols apart.

Humming on some rock tune he'd heard on the radio earlier, Dante fumbled around in a drawer in his desk until he found what he was looking for. Carefully he cleaned every corner both inside and outside of his guns. Now that he thought about it, it had been some time since his bike had been given the same attention. He'd better give El Burro a call one of these days he thought to himself.

The doors to his office opened and a woman entered. She walked casually towards his desk as she looked admiringly around at his decor «Well, well, what do we have here? Nature calls? It's in the back.» Dante mumbled as he kept most of his attention at his guns.

At last the woman arrived at the front of his desk. «So you're the handy man that will take on any dirty job, am I right?» She asked him. Shit, Dante thought. For once he'd like to have some time off, but it couldn't be helped, now could it? «It depends.» He said, rising from his chair.

«I only take special jobs, if you know what I mean.» He carried on, taking his sword down from the wall and swinging it about. There was something about this lady that brought an edge to Dante's senses. Better to be safe than sorry, since evil can have a thousand faces and ten thousand hearts.

«You're the man that lost a brother and mother to evil 20 years ago, Mr Dante.» The woman stated with a faint smirk on her lips. Taking a seat on the edge of his desk, resting the sword between his legs, Dante tilted his head at her. «Well, the way I figure it is that if I kill every single one of you that comes along, I should eventually hit the jackpot sooner or later.» He said to her, pointing the tip of his sword at her.

«In that case...» She said, putting her tiny fingers along the blades edge. «...you should be used to this sort of thing.» Then all of the sudden her hand was engulfed in a glowing golden light with hissing sparks to boot. Planting her full palm down on the blade, the energy she'd gathered in her hand shot down the blade and into Dante like a bolt of lightning.

Dante would have dropped the sword and reached for his guns, but that wasn't much of an option since he had disassembled them pretty good. So Dante clung to his sword despite the pain. Finally there was a last shockwave that knocked Dante off his feet and sent him flying a few feet backwards.

The woman wasted no time, as she flipped the sword around and threw it at Dante's chest like a javelin. It never felt good to be stabbed half to death, especially by your own sword. Dante felt his darker half rising, scratching his claws inside his cage, yearning for a release.

As if stabbing him with his own sword wasn't enough, the woman was determined to keep Dante pinned down by continuing her energy attack. This time it felt much worse, since the blade was inside Dante. It felt like his blood was boiling, yet he didn't scream, he endured it to the best of his ability.

«Is this really the son of the great Sparda? Didn't your daddy teach you how to use the sword?» She laughed as she kept on zapping Dante. Then it something dark and sinister snapped free from its chains inside of Dante's being.

The transformation fast quick and grotesque. Large bat-like wings shot out from his shoulder blades, fangs formed in his mouth, his eyes went milky pale, his hands turned crude and dark with hideous claws to boot.

Grabbing the hilt of his sword, Dante yanked it out with a single motion. Covered in black blood, Dante swung the sword at the woman with an animal like roar that made the walls in his office shake. He missed the woman's face by a hairs width, but at least he managed to knock off her sunglasses.

Evidently the woman was taken aback by this sudden change and staggered backwards before she fell. «Even as a child I had powers. There's demonic blood in me, given to me by the bastard that married my mother.» Dante said in a dreadful tone of voice. Putting the tip of his sword at the woman's chin, he raised her head a little.

«You were the first to know about my vengeance. Guess I must be getting close.» Dante said as he made the woman turn her head around to face him. Dante's hard facial expression softened the instant their eyes met. This was just not possible.

«So you are the son of Sparda. I'm sorry, I had to be certain. Know that I am not your enemy.» The woman said, slowly rising to her feet. «I come on the behalf of Trismagia, oracles who have the knowledge of the demon world.» She carried on.

Dante just stood there dumbstruck staring at her. This wasn't happening, there was just no way this was happening! «I've come to ask for your help, to bring an end to the Underworld.» The woman told him, though at this point Dante was only half listening.

«20 years ago the Dark Emperor Mundus resurrected. He was sealed away by Sparda and He's preparing to open the gate to the Underworld once more.» She explained. «Mundus?» Dante asked. That name rung a distant bell in his mind. The woman nodded.

She motioned him to follow him, but he grabbed around her wrist holding her back. «Just one thing; who are you?» He asked her, sounding genially concerned. «My name is Trish.» She told him, smiling slightly. «Is there a problem?» She asked him. «No, I just took you for someone else, that's all.» Dante brushed the issue away.

«So now we go over to this oracle of yours for some tea, cookies and doomsday prophecies? Dante asked once they were outside. «Something like that.» Trish sniggered. «We better get a taxi, so could you... erm, «tone down» your looks a little?» She suggested. Looking down on himself, Dante realized he hadn't changed back to his more normal self yet.

«Screw that, just give me the address and I'll fly over.» Dante replied, flapping his wings a little. «That's not quite how it works...» Trish said. «Don't tell me that this is one of those «they dwell in a little dream-world of their own» ordeals?» Dante groaned. «Something like that, yes.» Trish nodded.

«Goddammit! What's wrong it a down to earth address and doorbell? Selfish fuckers.» Dante complained. «You're free to fly, as long as you can take me with you.» Trish supplied. «You should have told me so in the first place, dumb ass.» Dante grunted before he lifted her up and soared for the skies.

Under Trish's guidance they arrived at a deserted looking apartment complex. «This whole place seems awfully familiar.» Dante mused to himself after he changed back to his human self. «Oh? You've been here before?» Trish asked sounding a little surprised. «Nawh, it reminds me of the first Matrix movie, when Neo went to see the oracle.» Dante shrugged.

The two entered the apartment and looked around. The place was as abandoned as the rest of the building, if not even more. The walls were naked and all the rooms were stripped of anything that could be referred to as furniture. «What? No cookie cooking old lady to tell me that «I'm the One»?» Dante commented dryly.

Trish ignored Dante's comments and walked over to the living-room. «Step inside the symbol and I'll summon the oracles.» She instructed. «Yeah, yeah, yeah.» Dante mumbled as he walked into the center of a large symbol drawn on the floor.

Obscurity filled the room as Trish sat down in a kneeling position and started chanting spells in a strange language. Dante was still on his edge, there were issues here that simply didn't add up. This whole ordeal could be a trap, but he was willing to take that chance. He had to know, he just had to.

The symbol on the floor glowed and Dante lost sight of reality as he drifted into the realm of the oracles. Out from the pitch black fog came a gigantic head, actually it looked more like 3 heads merged into one. Quite the sight, even by Dante's standards.

«Son of Sparda.» It said in a hollow voice of ancient knowledge. «Dante's the name, devil hunting's the game. So what's cooking?» Dante asked. «The Dark Emperor has resurrected.» Trismagia said, ignoring the joke Dante had delivered. «Yeah, they'll probably raise Elvis from the dead next, huh?» Dante said, already being bored by the stiffness of Trismagia.

«You're the only one that can prevent His dominion of the mortal realm.» Trismagia stated. «Because I'm the son of Sparda?» Dante couldn't resist asking. «Indeed, do you accept this burden, son of Sparda?» Trismagia asked. «Throw in a Lamborghini and you've got yourself a deal.» Dante shrugged. «The gratitude of all of mankind will be your reward, son of Sparda.»

Trismagia withdrew from the scene and soon the room returned to normal. «How did it go?» Trish asked as she dusted off her pants. «We didn't seem to agree on a payment, but other than that we saw eye to eye.» Dante shrugged indifferently. «Excellent.» Trish smiled. «It's time to start your training then.» She added.

Training? «Listen lady, I don't need any training what so ever.» Dante objected. «Oh really? You're just as skilled as your father?» Trish asked. «Close enough.» Dante replied. «Impressive. Your father spent more than 5000 years training. It is quite a feat to achieve the same skills in merely two decades.» Trish said with a clear tone of sarcasm.

She knows a lot, more than me. Better thread lightly until I know where I have her, Dante thought to himself as they left the apartment. «Tell me, just what do you do when you fight demons?» She asked him as they rode the elevator to the ground floor. «What I do? I just go with the flow.» Dante shrugged.

Smiling, Trish turned and looked over her shoulder. «That might have kept you going until now, but you're up against bigger and madder demons this time around. Going with the flow simply won't cut it.» She assured him. «Bull, horse and sheep shit all in one.» Dante objected.

Outside Trish decided to prove her point. «I did rough you up pretty badly at your office earlier, didn't I?» She said. «Beginners luck.» Dante snorted. «Then hit me, if you can.» Trish said, taking a stance. Might as well give her this one dance, Dante sighed mentally.

Trish started out with some fresh and sparkling material arts combat moves. She was flexing between Kung Fu, Karate, and Aikido obviously to keep Dante on his toes and make sure she didn't move according to a pattern that could be analyzed for weaknesses.

True she did get in a kick here, a punch there and two times she even managed to grab a hold of Dante, only to throw him half across the yard. All in all though, they were quite equally matched. «So much for warm up, lets get serious.» Trish panted slightly.

Again her hands became engulfed in golden light, though this time it was far more concentrated at the center of her palms. Was she going to start throwing balls of golden thunder after Dante? If so, she better do the talking when the cops showed up.

The golden light reached a climax and then faded rapidly away. In its place were a gun in each hand, not all that different from Dante's own. «Guns are one thing, bullets is another.» Dante shrugged. Unfortunately for Dante, magically generated guns don't have much need for bullets or reloading for that matter.

He'd been shot plenty at times before (even had the scars to prove it, should there be any doubt), so it would take more than a pair of hand sized cannons to scare him off. However, once Trish did open fire it hurt a lot, much more than a usual gun.

Dante suspected that it had more to do with how the guns were made, rather than their caliber «Two can play this game!» He shouted as he leaped up into the air, turned up-side down and as he spun around his own axis, he emptied his guns at Trish's location.

The instant he landed, Trish was gone. Bruised, shot at and bleeding, Dante remained calm and started to circle around in the area looking for Trish. Reloading his guns as he walked between the tall structures, Dante's senses were on high alert. His darker half had already started scratching its claws on its chains, but for now Dante could keep it under control.

In a fraction of a second the peace that hung gently over the yard was shattered. Trish had been hiding down in the sewers and decided it was time to pull Dante down in the mud as well. The dirty water sent a burning pain through all his gunshot wounds, yet he endured it. It would take a good 5 minutes for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting down here.

Trish had again the upper edge. «How's the flow flowing?» He could hear her, but he'd be damned if he could see her. Admitting defeat wasn't much of an option either, it never had been so why should he start now?

Then it came, a hand grabbed his head from behind and smashed his face hard against the brick-wall again and again until Dante was seeing spots in front of his eyes. Bleeding badly from his forehead and nose, Dante fumbled around at his opponent.

At last he got a grip at Trish's arm with both of his hands. He spun around, hoping to throw Trish off balance and get the upper hand from there on. Trish on the other hand countered by spinning around in mid air as if she was a gymnast going for the Olympic gold.

Dante still had both of his hands locked around her arm, when all of the sudden she pulled him close to him only to whack her forehead into his and follow up with a harsh kick to the stomach.

The winds were rarely knocked out of Dante, but this was more than even he could handle. Falling down on his knees, Dante could do little aside from gasping for air and coughing up what seemed to him to be gallons of blood.

«Pathetic, predictable and amateurish.» Trish sighed with disappointment. «Stop flattering yourself girl, I was holding back.» Dante managed to get out between the gasps. «That makes us two.» Trish noted before heading for the ladder leading up to the streets.

Beaten by a girl, that was a new one, he thought to himself. Dante was worried for two very good reasons. First off he'd finally met his match, or at least so it seemed. Secondly he knew all too well that there were some nasty critters that wanted him dead and they'd stop at nothing to do so. If they knew about Trish...

The sun light stun in his eyes as Dante reached the surface. One of the first things he saw was Trish's hand, offering itself to him. He declined her kindness and took a seat on the ground, letting his feet dangle down the manhole. «Anything else?» He asked her finally.

Trish squatted down in a crouch, tossing her head around a little to get the hair out of her face. «I'll be around should you need me. You should focus on honing your skills and staying alive of course. Humanity needs a savior, not an ugly looking corpse.» She told him.

Dante wanted to tell her something, but the chance slipped through his fingers as Trish suddenly leaped high into the air and landed at the top of the apartment complex that housed Trismagia. From there she quickly jumped from one roof top to another until she was out of view.

Looking down on himself, Dante's mind was suddenly brought around. He had at least 9 bullet wounds scattered about on his arms and torso. Wounds needed to be tended and that preferably before his favorite TV show started, since his VCR was busted.

Limping down the back-door entrance to the Raccoon City police station wasn't something that Dante was unaccustomed with. He'd been here plenty of times, since the basement of the R.P.D. housed the only doctor he'd ever grown to trust.

Dr Ada Wong might be a forensic detective, but she knew enough about human anatomy to pull out arrows, pieces of glass, cursed daggers and bullets from a battered body and patch it up enough to get it running through the night if nothing else. Painkillers were scarce, but as long as Dante had a piece of wood to grit his teeth into, he'd manage somehow. He always did, like some goddamn New York cockroach.

As Dante arrived at the mortuary, he was greeted by a yellow post-it note that read: «Out of town for a few days. First aid kit at your place.» Spitting curses and half a mouthful of blood, Dante limped his battered body out of the mortuary and all the way over to his place. He'd get the doc for this one, if he didn't bleed to death first.

Burning pain reeked from his wounds as Dante undressed in his office. His coat was filled with holes and the front was covered in blood. «Fucking hell, I just had this washed.» He grunted. Sitting on top of his desk, Dante's hands were already trembling as he reached for a bottle of whiskey.

Dante wasn't much of a drinker, in fact he stayed clear of anything with a too high alcohol percentage. He, like most people, had a nasty habit of loosing it whenever he got too much booze in his system. For most people this isn't all that much of a problem. Granted it could cost you your family, marriage or whatever, but...

Those problems grows pale when compared to Dante's way of «loosing it». He'd turn into a berserk devil looking for a good time, which usually involved a hell of a lot of killing. If it was living, he'd kill it. Sinner or saint, in that state Dante didn't give a flying fuck about anything.

The whiskey bottle was there so that he could clean his wounds. Personally Dante preferred sake for this kind of thing, but he was in no condition to go shopping, so he'd snatched an unopened bottle from a sleeping vagabond he'd run into on the way home.

Opening the bottle by smashing off the bottleneck at the edge of his desk, Dante splashed some of it into an empty bowl before pouring the rest over his chest and arms. «AAARGH! Shit-goddamn that hurts!» He'd always been reluctant to show weakness in front of others, but once alone Dante would be more than happy to express his pain on a verbal level.

Dropping the bottle to the floor, Dante pushed open the first aid kit that Dr Wong had so kindly left at his place. Picking up what looked like a forceps, he looked at it carefully before taking a few deep breaths. «I'm not very good at this, but here goes nothin'» He mumbled to himself and got down to business.

9 painfully removed bullets later, Dante's mind was clouded with pain, his body soaked in sweat and blood, not to mention that he was dreadfully thirsty. «Was it as good for you as it was for me?» He asked the forceps with a chuckle. Lying flat on his back on the floor, Dante heaved in some deep breaths before mounting the courage to finish what he'd begun.

Nine more scars to add to his collection. Dante's body was scarred more times than he'd bothered to count. Bite marks, claw scratches, knives, daggers, swords, guns, fire burns and even a few that he didn't even remember getting all made a rather colorful contribution to his body.

Filling in the gaps in his body with bandages, Dante was as in good shape as he could manage on his own. Should there be anything else, Dr Wong would have to look at it when she came back, if she came back. Dante wouldn't be all too surprised if she'd decided to split for good.

Now all that Dante wanted was to sleep off the pain and wait for the dawn to bring another day. Hopefully it would be better than this one, hopefully. Dante knew all to well that he was hoping for a miracle, but then again who wasn't?


	4. Shredded Truth

**Shredded Truth**

Toni Leone was sitting and enjoying his breakfast on a calm Wednesday morning. Chewing down his toast, the morning silence was chased away by a brumming motorcycle engine. «G'day, g'day, g'day T-boy!» Dante shouted as he pulled the key out from his bike's ignition. «Why do you come here?» Toni grumbled half loud. «Awh c'mon T-boy, that's no way to greet the guy that saved your mothers life.» Dante remarked. Although the weather was warm, the sky was cloudy save one or two blue spots that managed to peek between the drifting clouds. «You didn't answer my question.» Toni shot back, putting down his glass.

Dante climbed the few stairs up to the outdoor tables terrass, walking awkward. «What's with the funny walk?» Toni asked. «Got shot yesterday, nine times.» Dante replied, gritting his teeth faintly at each step. Sitting backwards on a chair, leaning his arms over the back of the chair while resting his chin on his arms, Dante made a bored face. «And I wanted to know what you've got on our new kid on the cop block, that's all.» He admitted. «Not much to say really.» Toni replied, turning his attention to his food once again. «Bore me...» Dante sighed, burrowing his face in his arms.

Patting his lips with a napkin, Toni reached over to another chair and took up a file. Flipping it open, he first ran his fingers over the lower half of his face before giving a brief summary of the file. «Leon is a idealistic and fresh from the academy cop. He is really burning for the ideal "serve and protect" and as far as I can tell, the life as a cop has really been an eye opener for him.» Dante kept on listening while his mind was working to digest the information presented. «Even if he's a bit short tempered and reckless, he's not as naive as I first thought. As far as I can tell, he's very qualified for his new job in the R.P.D.» Toni concluded before slapping the file on the table causing the dishes to clatter.

Raising his head, Dante picked up the file and flipped through the pages. «Suited for a cop...» He mumbled to himself. «You're gonna use him, aren't you?» Toni said, putting away his fork and knife before fetching a waiter to pick up the dishes. «Maybe... I'll give you the heads up either way, so we can avoid any misunderstandings.» Dante replied while his mind was still working out the details of how to proceed from here. «Dante?! Is that you out there?!» Toni's mother called out loud and clear with her ever recognizable voice from indoors. «Yeah mom, Dante came by for a visit!» Toni barked back in a manner that reflected his frustration as well as embarrassment «Dante's a good boy Toni, you should learn from him and just maybe you'll be 1/10th of the man he is some day!» Toni's mother shouted. «Yes mom, I know.» Toni replied. «I'll drop by for some spaghetti some day mama, so take care okay?!» Dante called out finishing with a big smile.

Back on the station, Leon was still chasing the killer of Lei Fang. The judge had finally given him the piece of paper that he needed so now he was off to the tailor shop. Still being fresh to the job and the city, Leon was joined by Marvin. «Say, is it usual that Dr Wong just leaves like she's done?» Leon asked in the car as they were driving off to China Town. «Yeah, can't say I blame her either considering her line of work.» Marvin noted while checking the side mirror as they drove off the main road and into the narrow streets of China Town. «What's your take on her?» Leon threw out another question casually. «How come you ask?» Marvin chuckled as they both stepped out of the car. «Hey, I'm the new kid remember? Just trying to get to know people, that's all.» Leon assured his partner, hoping that Marvin wouldn't stop talking because of Leon's interest in Dante.

The streets of China Town were now busy and buzzing with activity. It looked like a river of people, though there didn't appear to be a main current or flow, people were wandering off to every direction and then back again. «The Doc is a very professional woman, highly skilled and intelligent. However, she also can come across as very condescending with her tendency to talk down to those she deems "inferior" to herself. This is most evident in her tone of voice when addressing others.» Marvin explained his take on the forensic expert of the R.P.D to Leon. «And socially speaking she's...?» Leon followed up with another question related to the same theme as he fished up the search warrant for the tailor shop from his inner jacket pocket. «Don't know, don't care.» Marvin replied. Possibly because she's close to Dante, Leon thought to himself but said nothing.

The owner of the tailor shop had terrible English skills, so Marvin spent a whole lot of time trying to make himself understood while Leon took the chance to look around. In the back of the shop, Leon found a storage room for clothing that would be fixed. Under the light of a table lamp laid a particular piece of clothing that caught Leon's eye; it was a large dark red and black leather coat. The owner had to be huge not to drown while wearing such a large clothing. Holding it up, Leon noticed that the front had several bullet holes in it, nine in total and pretty raw caliber was used too. Turning it inside out, he more or less expected to find blood, but found something else. It was a liquid of some sort, but it wasn't blood since it was pitch black rather than dark red as blood. «What you doing here?» A young Chinese looking man demanded from Leon, grabbing his right shoulder and spinning him around with a solid yank. «Take it easy, R.P.D. We have a warrant» Leon replied calmly, showing his badge.

Marvin came into the back as well. «Honestly man, I think that guy is just pulling my leg. What do you got so far?» He asked Leon. «Oh not much, just another worker here and a coat with nine bullet holes in it.» He passed the coat over to Marvin. While looking at the coat in greater detail, Leon noticed a faint change in Marvin's face before he shrugged it off. «Probably some thugs doing target practice one of those clothing display puppets.» He said as he put the coat away. «You're probably right. Guess they must hate this Dante guy's guts.» Leon noted as he started to go up to the front of the store again. «What makes you think that?» Marvin asked, sounding a little uneasy. «Because Dante wears that kind of coat, same color, same size, same fabric.» Leon pointed out.

It was all a lie taken the form of a verbal dance, none different than mom telling dad that she loved him in front of the kids, while everyone knew that dad was going to leave mom very soon. Marvin was feeding Leon with lies and Leon casually pointed out that he saw straight through them and intended to chase the truth. «Lei Fang.» Leon began, showing the owner of the shop a photo of Lei. «Wanted dress. From China.» Spelling out the words carefully and pointing at one dark blue china dress with silver decorations that stood on display in the window, Leon hoped he could make the old man understand. «Yes, yes. Worked leery hard.» The owner nodded eagerly. «Did you? Take her order?» Leon then asked, pointing at the man. «No, lranddaulther sick. Me not here.» The man replied After a lot of back and forth, Leon concluded that what Dante had told him when they first met was correct. The owner of the shop was gone so the guy that took the order was his apprentice. Questioning him would prove vital to the investigation as he was probably the last person that saw Lei alive.

«Marvin, go see if you can fetch that guy in the back. Seems he's the last guy that saw Lei alive.» Leon called down to Marvin who was still looking around in the storage room. «Awh man, couldn't you have told me sooner? He just took off.» Marvin groaned. «Well excuse me for not speaking Chinese.» Leon said sarcastically, though didn't mean anything bad with it. «No worries, he probably went shopping for some lunch and almost everyone goes to Chunky Lee Chong to get their lunch.» Marvin assured him while walking up to the front of the store. The two police officers said their goodbyes to the tailor and headed further down the street to find the tailor's apprentice.

The take-away shop wasn't big, more on the contrary. «Why do everyone in China Town go to this shoe box of a store to buy their lunch?» Leon asked no one in particular. «'Cause the lady of the house is a goddess when it comes to spices» A customer replied. Looking at the man sitting at the counter, Leon was surprised to see that it was Dante. «What up officers?» He asked holding a bowl of soup and noodles in one hand and chopsticks in another. «What in the blazes are you doing here?» Leon blurted out. «Eating...» Dante replied in a tone that more or less said that he found Leon's question flat out stupid. «That's it?» Leon pressed. «That's it. Want some?» Dante asked back. Leon shook his head lightly to clear his head. I'll try a different approach, he decided. «You were right about the girl by the way.» He told Dante. «Ooooh... so you're going to go after the kid now?» Dante asked, slurping down noodles as of he was a vacuum cleaner. «That's the idea...» Leon replied, a little disgusted over Dante's table manners, or rather lack of.

«Eeeeeh! That's spicy!» Dante said in delight before gulping down a glass of water and wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. «Is your clothing style popular around here by the way?» Leon asked. «Nope, rather unique I dare say even amongst the goth-wanna-be kids up on Shoreside Vale.» Dante shrugged. «Funny that, because I found a coat just like yours packed with bullet holes in the tailors shop. Anything you want to tell me, Mr Dante?» Leon tried to pin Dante down with his eyes, but Dante met his gace without the faintest hint of discomfort. A faint hint of a glare in Dante's eyes made Leon's hard front crumble and fall like a house of cards. «Guess that means that I was shot... a lot.» Dante finally said before rising from his seat and walking off.

Seeing Dante fading out of view in the crowd of Chinese people, Leon made up his mind. «Marvin, I'm going to confiscate that coat at the tailor's shop.» He told him, cutting through the bullshit of verbal riddles. «I figured that much.» Marvin sighed in defeat and at the same time told Leon that he would have no part in it. «It's a dead end man, a dead end.» Though Leon didn't listen. Dante was involved, somehow and that coat was the first piece in the puzzle. Leon wanted to expose Dante for all he was to all the world, for if he didn't do it, no one in the immediate area would and Dante could keep on going 'bout his business, whatever that was. «Seeking allies in humans. You ARE the son of Sparda.» Trish noted to herself from a nearby rooftop, overlooking the busy streets of China Town. «Interesting, interesting indeed.» Then she, with a inhumanly long jump, was gone.

Another night, another hunt. The bullet-wounds from Trish had finally healed enough for Dante to be able to hunt. Good timing too, since the new cop was hot on the right track for a change and not loafing about in some random or pointless direction. Grabbing his guns, bullets and sword, Dante took off on his bike. He had to break the truth to Leon little by little; too fast and it would break him, too slow and Dante would loose him. Soon enough the carpet of truth would be shredded and he'd take it from there. First things first though, right now there was a devil on the loose and Dante wanted to bring it down tonight before Leon got any closer. Following his gut feeling, Dante ended up at the Portland harbor area where the night shift had just began.

Killing his bike's engine, Dante carefully got of the bike and took in the scenery. An attack lingered in the air, he could feel it. The shadowy side of his nature chuckled with devilish delight, blood would be spilled and desires would be met. A rattling sound from a dumpster made Dante reach for his guns and spin around to face the sound. Nothing, just a cat with a kitten in its mouth. «Could have cost you one of your 9 lives miss» Dante mumbled. Then it came, fast darting footsteps, light as a feather on snow. Armed with a bat, the attacker slammed it fast over Dante's face. Taking a step backwards and sniffing in some nose blood, Dante couldn't help but smile. «You're lucky I don't have a date tomorrow, so I'll kill you quick. Now stand still and say cheese...» He said as he took aim. His attacker wasted no time and slipped from left to right as he withdrew. «Oh no you don't!» Dante barked and gave into a chase. He lost track of his target as it slipped between some containers on the loading bay. «Asshole.» Dante grunted in disgust before jumping up on one container to the next, keeping his guns ready.

A hollow metallic boom rang from one container as the tip of Dante's massive sword slammed into the container. In the blink of an eye, Dante's attacker was all over him and managed to outsmart him enough to make him loose his guns to the ground. «You stinkin' son of a...!» Dante shouted out in rage as he drew his sword and cut after his attacker, whom quickly pulled out of reach. Several slashes were unleashed from Dante against his opponent, but the bugger had some quick feet and an annoying smirk on his face. «Guess you're the eldest of you two, huh? Your kid brother was a scared little shit.» Dante panted as he fell back to get a better grip on his sword. «Like you were on that day... two decades ago?» The attacker smirked. Dante's eyes flared up at those words, his face locked in determination and boundless rage. «YEEEAAARGH!!» He roared at the top of his lounges and slashed with wild savagery at his attacker. Taken aback by Dante's response to his words, the attacker hesitated for a fatal second and soon found himself with his bat cut in half and his other hand partially cut off.

With a snapping hiss of a lizard, the man jumped forward in a desperate attempt to kill his enemy, but there was no safe passage through Dante's attacks and he ended up loosing his right arm instead. Crying out in intense pain, Dante wasted no time. The smell and sight of blood fueled his dark self even more and urged him to proceed as cruelly as possible. «Make it hurt,» his other half chanted in his head. Complying to his dark nature, Dante used the broad side of his sword to knock his enemy off his feet and knelled astride over his opponent and started to punch him in the face. The devil was long gone dead, but Dante kept on punching until he actually cracked the head like an egg and hit the steel of the container underneath. «AAARGH!! Goddamn that hurt! Fuckin' shit.» The pain crawled up his arm and he lost feeling in several of his fingers. It was a feeling he in some weird way wished welcome. His grip on his fragile humanity was restored and secured, the beast was gone – at least for now.

Bending down, Dante forced himself to adjust his 3 broken fingers. Hissing an angry breath in response to the painfully and highly improvised treatment of his wounds, Dante was visibly drooling from his mouth as he tried his best to cope with the pain. «One more down, a hell of a lot more to go.» He sighed to himself once he'd regained his composure. Taking a seat on his bike, Dante looked up at the night sky. «You better get back doc, or I'll be... moody.» He said to the sky above.


	5. Forensic Detective

**Forensic Detective**

On a rainy and windful morning a lone car drove down the highway. The driver was a responsible person, carefully adjusting the speed and placement of the car according to the conditions at hand rather than blindly following the speed limit A gust of wind took a quick grab of the car and gave it a small shake, though the car itself quickly regained its path and carried onwards. In the opposite lane came a long distant bus driving and the two vehicles passed each other without incident In the back seat of the bus, in the left most seat sat Ada Wong, dozing and resting her head on the window.

It had been a relaxing weekend with no phone, e-mail, bleeper, MSN or whatever. For a precious few days she'd been free. Dr Ada Wong needed these little escapades in order to fall back and regroup her defenses guarding her sanity. In a Tolkien tale she'd been the necromancer, a dealer of the dead, though in the gray and somewhat dull reality she had to settle with the less romantic title of forensic detective. Sticking her fingers deep inside someones stomach, someone who'd been dead for the past 56 hours wasn't the worst part. As the evidence lined up and presented the course of events, Ada was seldom horrified over the last minutes her dead subjects experienced. In short, she'd seen just about everything there was on the subject.

Being locked up in a basement, surrounded by dead people who's very presence screamed out the agony and suffering they'd experienced didn't trouble her at all. The smell, the sight, the sounds – these were all second nature to her. Being surrounded by dead people was as natural as being surrounded by trees in a park as far as Ada was concerned. There was one interesting question that kept creeping in through the cracks; if it was so natural for her, why escape? Truth be told, Ada didn't escape the dead, more on the contrary, no what she escaped was the living. There was one in particular that she wanted to flee from, but she knew it would be futile to run away for good since she'd be fleeing from a hunter, the best there ever was.

Dante, the very name made her skin crawl. The things she'd seen him do, the things the two of them had been through over the years – words came short when talking about it, you simply had to be there to understand. At some point they had reached a level of understanding and perhaps even as much as respect. He would let her get away to catch her breath and sanity on the promise that she'd return to him and walk another mile on their dreaded road that at least to Ada, didn't seem to lead to any place she'd like to be. «Next stop, Raccoon City.» The bus driver announced over the speakers. Reality came knocking, what a drag Ada mused to herself as she stretched sheepishly in her seat.

Gathering her backpack, Ada walked off the bus and ran on light feet in on the bus station to get shelter from the rain. Casually she browsed through the station kiosk for magazines, newspapers and a quick snack. The northern wall of the bus station was made out of glass from roof to floor. Due to the heavy rain and gloomy weather, the streets were for the most part deserted. A few cars stood parked outside to pick up the bus passengers along with one or two taxis Ada wouldn't be needing a taxi, her ride was waiting for her just across the street. Half parked on the sidewalk there was a bike and a tall man dressed in dark red and black leather sitting like a statue, waiting. By the looks of it, he'd been there for several hours, if not all day since he was soaked to the bone.

Dante, there was no escaping him. Ada figured there would be no use hiding from him, even if you hid under the smallest rock in the depths of hell. Dante would raise so much havoc that even the devil himself would dig you up from under your rock and kick you out of hell, just to get Dante out of there. With that in mind, Ada finished her hot dog and walked outside to meet Dante.

She was just about to cross the street when something unexpected happened. A man came up to her and offered her an umbrella and a ride to the police station. «Don't you remember me doctor? I'm Leon Kennedy, the new cop at the R.P.D.» He told her as they stood under the umbrella. The gentle tapping of raindrops on the umbrella could be heard over the calm wet sound of pouring rain on asphalt. Ada tried to make the connection in her mind, half tired and half worried what Dante might do next. A nerverous glance over at Dante showed that he just sat there, motionless as ever, watching, waiting and evaluating.

Leon was about to give her another verbal nudge when Ada suddenly agreed to take his offer. «Okay then, let's go.» She said with a quick nod. From the corner of her eye Ada saw Dante flip the key of his bike and started the engine, a low brumming sound rippled through the rainy air before he slided the gas and took off slowly as if he simply wanted to fade into nothingness. «Something wrong?» Leon asked, catching Ada's distant looking facial expression. «No, just tired from the bus ride, that's all. A cup of coffee and I'll be okay.» Ada replied in a non-convincing tone of voice.

The drive to the station was one of awkward silence, the one you get when two people are crammed together with no chance of avoiding each other and they both have something that remains unsaid because they're not sure how to approach the subject in question. «I... I'm working on a case and I've got some evidence that I'd like you to look at.» Leon began as they stopped for a red light. «Is it a dead body?» Ada asked back indifferently. «Aaah... there's no dead body, so all I have is a piece of clothing that belonged to the victim. I'd like to have your professional opinion on it, if that's alright with you.» Leon fumbled around a little with his words, hoping he didn't fall through the thin ice that kept the conversation above water. «Alright or not alright doesn't have much to do with it detective, it's my job.» Ada mumbled in the same indifferent tone, though with a touch of grumpy mood to it this time.

Arriving at the police station parking lot, the two walked straight to the mortuary in the basement. «What's with the note?» Leon asked as he pointed at the yellow post-it note that hung on the door. «Just letting people know I'm out of town.» Ada replied, not taken aback by the question. «Yeah, I can understand that, but the first aid kit part?» Leon had a doubtful expression on his face. «A friend of mine needed a new one for his bike.» She shot back, still not affected by the questioning. «His bike huh?» Leon noted, not entirely convinced. «Accidents do happen detective.» Ada pointed out as she put down her backpack and slipped into her white lap coat

Leon was a little frustrated that he had to play yet another verbal game with the doctor. It was so painfully obvious that she was talking about Dante, but refused to come out clean and say it. Instead she fed him with half truths that could be seen as just about anything. True, people could have a use for a first aid kit in every vehicle and it was also true that accidents did happen, but even so! «So, what about this evidence you wanted me to look at?» Ada demanded in a no-bullshit manner. «I left it right here.» Leon replied, opening a locker and digging out the large coat from the other day. Wrapped in a transparent plastic bag and neatly folded, Leon handed it over to Ada and let her do her thing.

Almost holding his breath, Leon watched as Ada took out the coat and examined it more closely. Much to his surprise, Ada remained cool and calm as a frozen lake. There was no doubt that this coat belonged to Dante, yet she wasn't concerned about that, why? Was she in on it? Or maybe she'd seen coats in worse condition before and thus remained unimpressed by a few bullet holes «The coat was shot at point blank range, custom made guns, I'd say dual guns; desert eagles perhaps or a pair of .357 Magnums. Hard to tell from just the holes themselves.» Ada lined up her conclusion as if she was a talking robot. «What about this? I found it inside the coat.» Leon then said as he handed over a q-tip in a small plastic glass, one end covered in black as if it had been dipped in oil or black paint.

Squinting her eyes as she held the glass up under her desk light, Ada frowned a little before handing it back. «I have no idea. It could be anything; oil, paint...» She began before Leon shot in: «Blood.» Finally! Ada's face showed some sort of reaction, but it quickly recovered and froze up again. «You'll need to send it to the lab for analysis to get the details.» She said, letting the blood comment slide. Leon was about to leave when a last question popped in his mind. «Oh, one last thing.» He asked, actually smirking a little. «Yes?» Ada said, crossing her arms over her chest. «Would a person survive that kind of attack?» He asked, gesturing towards the coat. «The odds are certainly not in his favor, but then again... miracles do happen.» Ada replied, indifferent as always.

Walking up the stairway to the ground floor, Leon saw Dante climbing down the same stairs. «What is it with you always showing up at such strange times?» Leon asked. «Strange times detective?» Dante smiled with an exaggerated purity. «Did you find that kid by the way?» He quickly added as he grew serious. Leon was puzzled by the sudden question. What was that kid to Dante, Leon wondered, but kept his thoughts to himself. «Not so far, still looking though.» He told Dante as casually as he could. «Good, good. Hunt 'em down, every last one of 'em.» Dante grinned enthusiastically while giving Leon a thumbs-up before going down to the basement. «What are you doing here anyway?» Leon called after him. Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, Dante glanced over his left shoulder before replying: «The forensic geek got my iPod.» Another obvious lie, but Leon failed to confront Dante about it.

Ada knew that Dante was coming, after all he was the only one she knew of that could hum a merry song while walking over to the local mortuary. «G'day, g'day, g'day doc. Had a good weekend?» Dante called out in a happy voice as he opened the door with a loud bang. «Yes, it was quite nice.» Ada replied with a stiff and ever so faint smile. The conversation dropped like a rock at sea at that point. Dante pretending to know nothing, just scratched his nose a little and let his eyes drift around the room, pausing a little at the plastic skeleton that stood next to the door. «About this morning...» Ada began, unable to bear the silence that hung between them. «It's cool.» Dante said sounding very serious. Somehow that didn't make Ada feel a whole lot better. «You're going to use him?» She asked, sounding worried. «Is there a problem?» Dante asked back, being very relaxed, not looking at her.

Another halt in the conversation. «It's just... what happened with McCoy.» Ada sighed. «What about it?» Dante asked, his voice more or less demanding a straight answer. «No, it's nothing.» Ada replied, falling back to her indifferent self. «Way to go doc.» Dante complemented her. Whistling a little tune, Dante relaxed once more. «About that Chinese girl, Lei Fang. I got the bugger that did it, both the one that sat her up and the guy that did it.» He said, changing the subject. «What were they?» Ada asked. Ruffing his left hand through his hair, Dante thought for a moment before replying. «Fuck if I know. Some kind of spirit thingy that... possessed two dudes from china town and for some fucked up reason they needed the Adam's apple from a human throat to live.» Dante explained in a offhand manner. «Charming...» Ada commented dryly. «I got the bugger that killed the girl, but I'm not certain about that other guy.» Dante said more or less to himself. «Why's that?» Ada asked. «'Cause the first one went up in ashes as if he was a vamp', but this other guy died as if he was human.» Dante answered.

A messy affair I bet, Ada thought to herself, but kept her comments to herself. «I mean shit. I still find pieces of brain in my glove.» Dante said with disgust, but couldn't help to laugh over the ordeal. «So, what about the new guy?» Ada asked. «Leave him to me doc, I'm on top of things, as always.» Dante grinned. «Anything else happened while I was gone?» Ada sighed as the conversation was already starting to give her a headache. There was only so much of Dante's personality she could take in one day. «Got a new job, sounds pretty big.» Dante said while giving away a yawn. «Oh and now that you're here, could you take a look at my broken fingers and my bullet wounds?» Dante asked sheepishly. «So you did get shot after all.» Ada sighed.

Up on the ground floor, Leon was sitting at his desk, looking at his computer screen. Right now that was all he could do. The kid he was looking for in the Lei Fang case was gone like a ghost, so all he could do now was to wait for something, anything, to come up. While waiting around for the kid to show up, dead or alive, Leon figured he might as well follow the last loose thread: Dante. Doctor Wong was not talking, the gangsters all over town wasn't talking either, so who was left? Dante himself, but that was pointless. Even if there ever was a point in taking Dante head on, Leon questioned his ability to mount the courage it would take to have that kind of concentration with Dante. There was just something about that guy that got Leon spooked. Figuring that there was nothing better to do, Leon decided to go back to square one; the files the police had on Dante, all 3000 of them.

At the end of the day, Leon's eyes were soar from reading file up and file down. Nothing, at least nothing new that would help him getting a clearer image of Dante. Resting his head in his hands, Leon looked down on his messy desk. Filed by detective Ray McCoy one file read. Yeah, whatever Leon's tired mind groaned as he packed it down in the cardboard on the floor. The next file was also filed by detective Ray McCoy and the next and the next and the next. A whole load of the files were all filed by the same detective! This was it, the little thing he'd overlooked. Leon was a little embarrassed, since it was such a obvious clue, but he'd just have to swallow that down and get on with the program. First though, a quick trip to the WC.

After taking care of business, Leon was washing his hands when he was joined by Marvin. «Did you catch the game last night? Man that last goal was one for the books, y'know what I'm saying?» Marvin smiled. «Nope, didn't get it, but I have it on tape and I'll enjoy it on Friday» Leon grinned back, drying his hands under the warm air dryer. «Say Marv'...» He continued. «I need to talk to a detective here on the station, could you give me directions?» Leon asked. «Sure thing dude, just gimme a sec to finish up here, 'kay?» Marvin replied as he began washing his hands. «I'd like to have a word with a detective McCoy, Ray McCoy.» Leon said. «Good luck with that one.» Marvin chuckled. «Why do you say that?» Leon asked looking puzzled. «'Cause he's dead. You're his replacement, remember?» Marvin said, finding Leon's scatterbrain behavior amusing.

Back at the computer, Leon did a quick search. Yup, Marvin was right; Ray McCoy was dead as a rock, his wife and two kids too. The case itself was nice and clean; a crime scene with a broken entry, dead bodies, smoking gun, footprints, matching bullets and the killer currently behind bars for the killings he committed «What's wrong with this picture?» Leon mumbled to himself, staring at the computer screen until the screen saver kicked in. Rewinding his thoughts, Leon went over it again.

The guy that did it was a small time thug from the local Yakuza. The 9mm Uzi that was used was found in his fridge of all places, the bullets matched, he had no alibi and was known to be trigger happy along with a short temper. McCoy had been pretty knee deep with the local Yakuza, their casino in particular. Motive was in place, though the higher-ups in the Yakuza command considered the guy dispensable, so they didn't bother to flex up some 50.000 legal protection for him when he was dragged to court. It was more like a public execution, they gave the court everything they needed and more. Perhaps a little «playground-rules»? The Yakuza gave the cops their cop-killer and the cops turned a blind eye on some minor irregularity further down the road. Made sense Leon thought to himself, but again there was one piece present that simply didn't fit with the equation; Dante.

Dante was deep into the Yakuza, as deep as an American could get with Japanese gangsters. Dante was also heavily linked to McCoy since he was the only cop in the station that kept track on what Dante was doing. «Okay, okay, okay... let me think here.» Leon said to himself, leaning backwards in his chair. Dante is a P.I, so as a P.I he could need a helping hand with the police every now and then, assuming that he was a normal P.I that caught cheating wives on camera and the like. However, that was obviously not the case, since not a single file ever mentioned something as normal as a cheating wife scenario. There had to be a link between Dante, the Yakuza and McCoy, but just what in the blazes was it?

Leon was so into solving the puzzle in front of him, that he didn't notice that Ada stood in the hallway, peeking in at him through the barely open door. Walking silently over to the pay phones, Ada dialed a number and waited. As soon as the other end picked up she said: «He's on to McCoy.» Before hanging up.


	6. November 11th

**November 11th**

The Raccoon City cemetery, not really the place Leon expected to visit so soon, but here he was nevertheless. Standing under a dark green umbrella, Leon looked down on the tombstone in front of him. Ray & Crystal McCoy it read, date of death November 11th. «Just a cop-kill or was there something else?» Leon muttered under his breath. Asking around on the station was not a good idea, Leon tried that earlier this morning. Apparently McCoy was a guy just about everyone had to like. He had such a charm and wit about him that made it easy to connect with him, plus there was no celebrity he couldn't imitate. His Sean Connery act was a sure winner at any party. It wasn't hard to imagine what happened to the guys at the station when they heard what had happened, not just to McCoy, but to his family as well.

There was an outrage never seen before or since. It was border lining to a full scale war between the gangsters of the city and the cops taking the law in their own hands, leaving their badges at home. If taking out McCoy was meant as a message, it didn't come out quite as planned. So far that was the story, at least what could be found by talking to people, reading old newspaper clippings and browsing through the various files. Leon still wondered what was lurking off the record and he intended to find out. «Hey detective, got a sec?» A man asked behind him. Leon didn't even have to turn around to know who it was, he knew that voice.

Packing down his umbrella, Leon slowly turned around and came face to face with Dante. «You show up wherever I go, as if you and me were stuck in some sort of movie or something like that.» Leon commented dryly. «Word got around that you're sniffing around ol' McCoy's last minutes. Thought you'd come to my door knockin' sooner or later, so I figured what the hell.» Dante shrugged. «Got your iPod back?» Leon asked, just to check if Dante could keep his feet dry. «Yup, in perfect condition too.» Dante replied flashing a quick smile. You really needed to get up early in the morning to catch Dante off guard, Leon thought to himself.

Walking back to the car, Dante patiently tagged along waiting for Leon to take the first step. «What was your connection with McCoy?» Leon asked, pluming into the conversation. «McCoy was assigned to keep me on a leash, in fact he signed up for it voluntarily.» Dante replied. Leon halted in his tracks, while Dante kept on walking. «Keep you on a leash? Are you that much of a bad boy?» He demanded from Dante. «Oh you have no idea.» Dante answered, still walking. «And just how bad can you get if you go unchecked?» Leon insisted since for once he had Dante talking and was getting answers that somewhat made sense.

Dante paused in his walk and took a moment to look up at the sky. Then there was a quick sneeze and he turned to continue the conversation. «Bad enough to make devils cry.» He told Leon with such frankness that Leon found it hard to take it as a lie. «So that's it? You're as bad as they get, king of the fucking hill, even the mafia is afraid of you. Yet they feel that they can use you, control you, don't they? The truth is that things are the other way around, isn't it? You're the one using them to meet your own end, whatever that might be.» Leon summarized after a little thought. Dante on the other hand just winked at him, saying: «Seek and you shall find.»

Leon figured he might as well go the full mile, as Dr Wong had told him on their first meeting. «So how does Dr Wong fit into this image?» He asked Dante, whom for the moment was busy sending a SMS with his cellphone. «Huh? The doc? She's the forensic geek, so whenever I get a case that involves one or more dead people, I ask her for info.» Dante shrugged. «McCoy's killer, do you know him?» Leon then asked, feeling lucky. «Hell yeah.» Dante shot back immediately «What was your role in McCoy's death?» Leon finally found the courage to ask what he found to be a critical question. «I was his unofficial, off-the-record partner, you do the math.» Dante mumbled, obviously getting a little bored by the questioning.

The conversation pretty much ended at that point as an expensive looking limo came driving up to the two men. «Looks like my ride is here.» Dante sighed with a smile. «I might drop by your office one of these days Mr Dante.» Leon called after him as he took a seat inside the limo. «Sure thing.» Dante smiled before shutting the door. As the limo drove out of view, Leon thought what he should do next. He was close, so close he could almost taste it. Just that last nudge, that was all he needed at this point. A growling stomach gave him a reminder that lunch time was right around the corner, so he decided to grab a bite before doing anything else.

In the back of the limo Dante joined Joey, Tony and Luigi «So what's so fucking important that you needed to see all of us at the same time?» Luigi demanded with his usual tough face. A clam, though a little annoyed glance from Dante shut him up. «Spread the word, Leon S. Kennedy is McCoy's replacement.» Dante said folding his arms of his chest and lowering his head while closing his eyes. The three Italians glanced at each other before they reached for their cellphones and started to make calls to everyone that was anybody or just a plain nobody in the criminal underworld of Raccoon City.

Sitting in a café and enjoying some egg & bacon, Leon replayed his conversation with Dante earlier. As far as he could tell, it all made sense. It was just that something was missing, whatever it was. «Detective Kennedy?» A woman standing at his table asked him. Looking up from his plate he saw a beautiful blond woman with bright blue eyes. She was dressed in black leather from head to toe, solid boots on her feet and sunglasses resting on the top of her head. «That's me alright, what can I help you with Ms...?» Leon replied, hoping to catch a name. «Trish.» The woman supplied, offering her hand. «Pleasure to meet you, Trish.» Leon said with a polite smile as he shook her hand.

Trish took a seat opposite of Leon and rested her arms on the table, leaning forward smiling a little devilish smile. «I'm going to let you in on a little secret Leon.» Trish told him as if they'd know each other for years. «There's a blind girl in an orphanage called Laura.» She explained carefully. «Although blind, she... sees things other people can't see.» Trish carried on in a reflective tone of voice as she sunk back in her seat. «If you take her to the scene of the crime, she'll tell you what really happened.» She finished, taking a napkin and polished her sunglasses. It sounded weird, as if it was taken straight from an episode of X-files, but there was something about this woman. Leon concluded that it was her eyes combined with her almost seductive voice that made all doubt in his mind go away.

Tracking down this Laura girl wasn't hard and soon Leon found himself driving to McCoy's old house to see what the girl would tell her. It was a strange out of body experience, as if Leon was watching himself doing things he'd normally not do. Yet at the same time he wasn't raising any loud objections to these actions. In all honesty it was quite surreal. Parking in the drive leading to the house, Leon helped Laura out of the car and guided her into the empty house. The house itself had stood empty since the killing. Although it was for sale, no one seemed interested in living in a house that had a family of four killed. «What do you want me to do, detective?» Laura asked him in a timid voice.

Gently Leon's hand folded around hers as the two stood just outside the front door. «Laura, I want you to give me sight beyond sight.» He told her, though in his own head it felt like the words were being put in his mouth, they weren't his own. Despite feeling like a puppet tied to strings, Leon didn't struggle against his strings. «Of course detective.» Laura replied and gave his hand a little squeeze. Nothing in the whole world could prepare Leon for what happened next.

In what could be best described as a painful flashback, Leon saw what had happened on November 11th as if it was a movie dusty old black and white movie. The garden was covered in snow and tiny flakes of snow danced in the still air as a tall man walked up to the door and gave it a solid kick. The owner of the house, whom Leon identified as McCoy from photos he'd seen, came rushing. «What are you doing!» He demanded from the assaulter, but was gunned down with a short burst from a 9mm Uzi At the sound of gunfire, the remaining residents panicked and McCoy's wife dashed towards her husband crying openly.

Without any emotion, the gunman shot down the wife as well. The skinny looking daughter in her early teens froze solid in front of the big screen TV as the gunman entered the living room with long, clam and determined steps. «Mom...? Daddy...?» She trembled terrified as she looked down the barrel of the Uzi Another short spray of bullets splatted the daughters crimson red blood over the TV that was showing the late show with David Letterman cracking jokes as usual. The gunman stood motionless in the middle of the living room for a moment, towering over his 3 victims in a mute victorious pose.

The silence was chased away by a baby's cries from the master bedroom. Resuming his calm, steady and determined walk, the gunman followed the cries and paused over the baby that lied in his crib kicking his feet. The killer looked like hesitated for a moment, but eventually he picked up a small pillow and suffocated the infant. Letting out a heavy sigh, he walked with long strides towards the exit. McCoy, who's life was leaking out of his wounds managed to grab his killers ankle and caught his attention. Panting and bleeding badly, McCoy gathered the breath he needed to make one last cry: «DAAAAAAANTE!»

With the echo of McCoy's death cry still ringing in his ears, the vision Laura had given Leon ended as brutally as it had begun. «God-Jesus...!» Leon panted, feeling his knees trembling and his palms soaked in sweat. Dante was the one, he was the cop-killer. Why? The two had been partners, Dante told Leon that himself, in his own cryptic way. Why the cruelty, why not take out McCoy in the field, away from wife and children? A Yakuza thug was put in jail for the murders, but why? Wherever Leon looked at this final piece to the puzzle there was a whole army of whys demanding answers like an angry mob. «Laura... did you see it too?» He finally asked, lowering his head to keep him from throwing up. «Yes, but don't worry about me. I've seen worse.» Laura comforted him by stroking some gentle fingers over Leon's back.

Driving Laura back to the orphanage was done in silence. Leon couldn't bring himself to talk about anything, even something as neutral as the weather report. He was shocked to the very core of his being. Demons like Dante belonged behind bars or better yet; 6 feet under ground level. Leon promised himself and the deceased McCoy family that he'd bring Dante in and no sweet talking lawyer or intimidating gangsters would be able to save his ass. He'd take the law in his own hands if all else failed, right now, right here it didn't sound wrong at all.

The night was calm and perfectly still as Dante climbed up on the roof of his office. Carrying his iconic sword, Dante looked out over the roof. He'd rigged it with a steel frame that he hung bags of sand from for target practice. The wide open space of the roof allowed him to move around with great freedom. There wasn't much tactic involved in his training sessions, it was more just doing what felt right then and there. He was after all a natural in his trade. «Alright.» He said to himself before taking off his coat, leaving his torso bare and walked out on the center of the roof.

While Dante was preparing for a late sword play on his roof, Leon parked his car in front of the Devil May Cry office. In his outrage, Leon had forgotten common sense and haven't told anyone of what that girl had shown him at McCoy's place. Alone and only armed with his trusty sidearm, Leon was at least rational enough not to kick in the doors and go in with guns blazing. Securing the first floor, Leon slowly climbed the stairs to the second floor and again found nobody. The bike he'd seen in the garage suggested that Dante was in or would at the very least be close even if he'd gone out for an errand.

Several bags of sand was swaying back and forth as Dante had unleashed a series of quick slashes. The calm hissing sound of sand pouring down on the floor was interrupted by a metallic groan from the door leading downstairs. Curious of who his late visitor might be, Dante turned around and came face to face with Leon's gun. «Are you really that happy to see me?» Dante chuckled, taking a seat at the concrete edge of the roof, resting his sword on his right shoulder. «Drop the sword.» Leon grunted. «Ha?» Dante replied sounding quite surprised «DROP THE FUCKIN' SWORD!» Leon actually roared.

Dante made a baffled face, but after a short moment of thought, let go of his sword, making it fall down over his back and to the ground below. «Hope I didn't hit your car.» Dante smiled. A pause followed, as Leon seemed to be struggling to maintain his composure. «If you're trying to scare or threaten me by holding me at gun point, I can tell you right now that you're gonna need a bigger gun.» Dante finally broke the silence. «Why did you kill McCoy?» Leon demanded harshly. «What makes you think I did it?» Dante asked calmly. «Laura, the blind girl that gives people sight beyond sight or whatever the hell that thing was. Frankly, I don't give a flyin' fuck because at the end of the day I saw what you did on November 11th and I know that it was real.» Leon explained, locking his grip on his gun even tighter.

At those words Dante's calm expression hardened and became dead serious. «Who told you about that girl?» He asked in a ice cold voice that chilled Leon to the bone. «Some woman I met.» Leon replied, trying to shake off his fear. «Details please...» Dante hissed like a snake ready to sink its fangs into its prey. With a genuine fear for his own life, Leon gave in and told Dante what he knew. «Blondie, dressed in black, pretty blue eyes... called herself Trish.» Dante closed his eyes in thought, nodding a little to himself. «That one...» He said to no one in particular. «I'll need to have a chat with Trish. You and me can finish this later.» Dante finally spoke, rising from his seat.

Police training kicked in, loudly snapping inside Leon's mind and before he knew it Dante was lying on the ground, Leon's gun was smoking and the angry roar of his gun was still ringing in his ears. Stunned, Leon didn't move at all. Replaying the fraction of a second where it all happened in his mind, Leon realized that he'd shot Dante straight in the chest. This was bad, very bad. «Awh goddamn it all to hell.» Dante groaned as he rose to a sitting position. A wave of fear washed over Leon and in a mixture of panic, fear and fading sanity, Leon emptied his gun into Dante's naked torso.

Even after his gun was depleted for bullets, Leon kept on pulling the trigger. Dante lied motionless on the rooftop, his body covered in blood. «Oy... your shooting sucks.» Dante coughed as he rose yet again to a sitting position. «Just what the hell are you!» Leon demanded as he backed off in fear until his back was against the wall behind him. «Fuck if I know.» Was all a groaning Dante told him as his skin began to darken and huge bat like wings sprung out from his shoulder blades With demonic speed Dante's new and cruel face was just inches away from Leon's. «Let's do this quick.» Dante panted, his warm breath smelled blood.

Despite several bullet wounds in his torso, Dante grabbed Leon and tossed him around like a man sized rag doll before pinning him down on the ground and gave him a solid beating. Grunting in pain and with sadistic pleasure, Dante would kept on going until dawn, but he was brought to his senses when someone grabbed his right wrist. «That's enough. Your point is made. He's no good to you dead anyway.» A woman said with a soothing voice. «What do you know?» Dante turned over his shoulder still in an outrage, but his angry face opened up to wide amazement when his dead milky eyes meet the fair and clear blue eyes of Trish.

Letting go of Leon's beaten up body as if it was a ruined toy, Dante rose up, his demonic frame towering over Trish, whom didn't budge one inch. In fact she was glaring at him with angry eyes as if she was scolding a child. «Who died and let you in on my private affairs?» Dante asked after he managed to calm down, though his demonic features remained. «You can say what you want, but we're pressed for time. Since you won't get your ass in gear, I allowed things to speed up.» Trish shot back. «Pressed for time my ass.» Dante snorted. «Mundus is getting stronger by the minute Dante and since you haven't reached your full potential yet, you can't waste time like this. Get on with the program.» Trish pointed out. «Fuck that! I do things my way and that's final!» Dante barked back.

Trish sighed in disappointment, as if she was trying to make through to a spoiled child. «On your way to stop Mundus chances are good that you'll find the killers of your family, but you won't last long at this rate. I can help you confront Mundus and live to tell the tale, but only f you let me.» She made one last effort to make Dante understand. «Fine, I'll hear you out and take the things you have to say into account, but I won't make any promises.» Dante finally gave in.


	7. R & R

**R & R**

In Raccoon City central hospital in room 616 police officer Leon S. Kennedy slept dreamlessly in a large hospital bed. He'd been here for two solid weeks and still hadn't woken up. Whatever happened to him, it couldn't been a pleasant encounter. Several bones were broken, one lounge punctured, sever though no-fatal internal bleeding, blood loss and a nasty concussion. Miracle cop his co-workers called him, since his survival was indeed a real life miracle. Barely a week at the force and he was already hospitalized. Leon's closest collage at the force, Marvin, came by every day at the end of his shift. He usually stayed until visiting hours was over and then headed home. Marvin never said anything nor did he ask any questions to the nurses, he simply was there for his collage, nothing more nothing less.

It was around four o'clock in the morning on the third week that Leon finally woke up. The painkillers made his head spinning and his vision one big blurry fog. «Good morning Leon, how are you feeling?» A woman asked with a gentle voice. «Like I had the crap beaten out of me...» Leon sighed followed up by a faint smile. His dry lips cracked open and drops of blood began to pop to the surface. «Do you remember anything?» The woman asked. Swallowing in hope to wet his dry throat a little, Leon looked into his disorientated mind and tried to focus on his last solid memory. «Devil May Cry...» He groaned as he recall seeing the bright red neon sign. «Yes, something saved you from a gang that was beating you to pulp, and Dante brought you here.» The woman supplied.

At the mention of the name Dante confusing images and loud sounds rang through Leon's mind. Roaring guns, pain and a large black winged demon. «Why did... what...» Leon couldn't sort things straight in his mind so he simply gave up. «I'll explain everything, so I want you to listen to me and listen carefully for I'll tell you this only once.» The woman soothered him. Leon weakly nodded in response and tried to clear his mind as best he could.

After a theatrical pause for dramatic effect, the woman began her tale. Leon had a hard time keeping track of what was said about who, what, when and where, but at least he caught the headlines, sort of. In short the story was about Dante, his trade and the many things that followed in his wake.

Dante was a man feared by just about everyone in Raccoon City and with good reason. If there was anyone that could live up to the proverb «tough as they come», Dante was your guy. He came from a small and broken, yet happy family. This only true happiness was torn out of his hands at an early age and that one event planted the dark seed that would later bloom into the present day Dante.

As a natural hunter and ruthless killer, Dante spent every woken moment bent on one thought alone; revenge. Everyone, everything was a potential target. In the early days, Dante had no clues, no ideas, no real suspect, no skill, no experience, no nothing. He kicked down every door he came across, skating uphill, kept on going no matter how many punches he took along the way. True he had his limits, but he'd just fall back, crawl into the shadows, lick his wounds like a injured predator, only to start anew with stronger resolve.

When Dante reached his teens, he already had a respectable reputation in the criminal underworld, especially considering his young age, the police was keeping a closer eye on his movements, but things went from bad to worse during Dante's early teens. The places, people and events he continuously got connected to grew weirder and weirder, darker and darker. Dante kept digging, into the abyss of human nature and society, no one can tell for sure what he found down there (the few who can are either insane or dead), but whatever it was, it died screaming and Dante came back to the world of the living with a trophy from his adventures.

Where it came from, few dare to speculate, how Dante managed to tame it, no one wants to know, who's really in charge; Dante or the beast, people don't dare to ask. All they know is that when the shit really hit the fan with Dante around, it comes. A dark angel of death, surrounded by a crimson red aura, with a big white cross across its chest, milky pale dead eyes that holds no soul, mercy or hope and claws that sink deep into your being and drags you deep down into the shadow of darkness. Wielding a sword identical to the one Dante uses, it hunts, it kills and it will not stop at anything, for anyone until the skies cry blood. It is a open, violent and savage rebellion against everything that man holds dear.

It was this... thing, whatever it is, that put Dante on the throne once and for all. Everyone that has tried to challenge his seat has failed, their fates are told in detail to make children of serial killers and other extremes of human nature behave. Word is that if Dante's after you, there's no escape, not in this life or the next.

Leon sunk back into his bed and took a moment to think things over. The image of Dante with a devil watching over him kept creeping in behind his eyes. «For whatever reason, this thing acted on its own and came to your rescue. Though once the gang was... dealt with, it left Dante to clean up the mess.» The woman said as if she was talking to herself. «Holy...» was all Leon managed to say at that point.

Looking up with a much clearer vision than earlier, Leon glanced over at the window. In the frame sat the silhouette of a woman and as the sun rose from behind the skyline of Staunton Island, the rays of light revealed her blond hair, black leather clothing and fair blue eyes. «You're still going to be stuck to this bed for the next 2 months, so take the time to think things over, where you want to go from here. Get some R & R y'know.» Trish said before sliding out of the window frame and leaving the room.

Not long after that a nurse from the morning shift came by to check on Leon. Seeing that he was wide awake, she went to fetch a doctor right away. After a series of questions and check-ups, Leon was left to his thoughts. He had a lot of things to consider, but worst of all he was all alone. If there was just someone... anyone he could consult with, to ask for a second opinion, but there was no one.

Dante and this Trish lady, whomever she was, were obviously not your average Joe and they were both so deep into this that they didn't have much choice but to keep going forward. Marvin, along with a lot of the other cops at the station knew that there was something going on, something unnatural, but had chosen not to peek into it any further. McCoy had been the only one so far that had answered the call, but he was dead. Leon couldn't talk with the dead, though he wouldn't be surprised if this Trish woman could. Why did Dante kill him anyway?

Leon was curious about that question, but was that curiosity worth getting involved? He had the feeling that once he agreed to join hands with Trish and Dante, he'd be stuck there 'til the end of his days. While pondering over these issues, Marvin came to see Leon in the middle of his shift. «Heh, when I heard the news, I just had to come over.» Marvin smiled as they chatted over a bottle of soda Marvin had smuggled in.

While Marvin was chatting happily about normal day issues at the station, football games and the up-coming Oscar show, Leon remembered that there was one person he could talk to regarding joining Dante or not. Dr Ada Wong was deep into it and she could give Leon important information that he'd need to make his final decision. «Say Marv'.» He asked his co-worker. «Yeah?» Marvin replied, pouring himself another cup of soda. «Could you drop a line to Dr Wong for me and ask her if she could come over?» Leon asked.

Marvin was taken a little aback by this sudden and rather unexpected request, but saw no reason to refuse. «Sure thing, I could do that. Do you got the hots for her or something?» He grinned. Now it was Leon's turn to be surprised, but he jokingly suggested that by looks alone, sure he wouldn't mind being doctor Wong's patient, but was uncertain if her personality and character had a similar attraction. «Better tell the guys this, they love to have bets about this kinda thing.» Marvin laughed. «Oy, oy, oy. If you do that you'll start finding dead bugs in your coffee.» Leon jokingly threatened.

Although it was a shot in the dark, Leon did have a faint hope that Ada would drop by. Thankfully his hopes weren't misplaced as Ada gently knocked on the door frame at the end of visiting hours. «Sorry I'm late, but there was a fire in the subway and... well, yeah.» She shrugged. «Close the door doc and have a seat.» Leon said, inviting her in. Raising one of her eyebrows in suspicion, Ada did like she was told. «I know about Dante... the whole... his story.» Leon said, wasting no time to beat around the bush.

Ada just tilted her head a little in response before asking: «Are you asking me to help you getting him behind bars?» Leon was quick in dismissing that idea. «No, I was... offered what I guess was McCoy's seat by this Trish woman.» He explained. «Trish?» Ada asked sounding puzzled. «Blond woman, blue eyes, dresses in black leather, face like an angel...?» Leon supplied. Ada just shook her head. «Nope, doesn't ring any bells.» She said spreading her hands helplessly.

This was a serious blow to Leon. Just who was Trish? Did Dante know about her? Was she playing Leon into a trap? Questions like these kept popping up in his head until he felt like it would explode. «Dante's inner circle is painfully limited. Most of the top gangsters in Raccoon City are clueless of what's really going on, they just know that Dante can fix problems that are out of the ordinary.» Ada said as if she was trying to answer some of the questions in Leon's head.

Leon had to make a decision, so in a blind leap of faith he cast aside his doubts about Trish for now and asked Ada what he wanted to ask her in the first place. «Ada, what... how did you get inside Dante's inner circle?» Ada leaned back into her chair at that question, her eyes saying «so that's what you want to know», but she sure took her sweet time before she started talking.

In the beginning she told how she used to spot Dante near crime scenes out in the city. He stood out like a sore thumb thanks to his silver white hair despite his young age and then there was of course those eyes of his. For some time that was their so-called relationship, but it advanced to the next level when he suddenly one day arrived at the station and started asking questions about a mutilated body.

When she suggested that such information was strictly speaking for law enforcement eyes only, Dante quickly countered with saying that he was a P.I investigating the same case on behalf on a private client. Ada being clueless of what or whom she had to deal with, promptly shoved Dante out of the station. The very next day Dante came back, this time with his client. Dante's client was no other than Donald Love, one of the most powerful men in all of Raccoon City. Mr Love was polite, yet quite firm when he insisted that Ada would give Dante 110 of her cooperation.

From then on, their partnership started in its virgin years. Dante showed up at strange hours of the day and was always interested in cases that had low profile and several unnatural elements in it. You never saw Dante on a nice and clean crime scene like a jealous mistress killing her lover for not divorcing his wife. Though things didn't stay like that for very long. A year or two at the most, then everything changed.

Ada was working late one night when all of the sudden strange worm like creatures shot out from the pelvis of a dead woman. As if Ada's scream of terror was his cue, Dante dashed in and shoved a massive sword into the dead body. Barking at Ada to get the hell out of his way, she fled out of the room and slammed the door shut. When Dante finally came out, he was covered in navy blue blood and had bite marks all over his left arm.

After that Dante told her to forget it all, nothing happened, it was a bad dream, fever fantasy or whatever lie I decided to tell myself. «Just don't insist that this happened.» He stressed out before leaving, Ada recalled. Since Ada was in a state of shock, it took a good week before she managed to arrange her memory from those fatal seconds into something she could digest and analyze. She wanted to tell someone, anyone, but couldn't. «Why not?» Leon asked, interrupting Ada's story. «I was having this feeling, that someone or rather some_thing _was watching me and that if I as much as thought the thought, it'd jump at me and...» Ada broke off, drawing a deep, shivering breath.

Fear, Dante's main weapon against the world that opposed his way of life. Leon had to admit it, no sane person would ever want to go up against Dante. You'd crumble and fall like a house of cards before Dante even lifted a finger. «You two are on talking terms now, so how did that happen?» Leon asked Ada, keeping his fingers crossed that she wouldn't bail out and never speak of the subject again. «McCoy.» Ada said, as if that explained everything.

On the verge of a full nervous breakdown due to paranoia and inhumanly high stress levels, Ada found reason to go on in McCoy. He knew that something was going down, that all the blood ran back to Dante's hands, guns and sword. He cut a deal with the police commissioner; Dante was a treat to public peace and although he's solved cases too hard for the police to handle, his methods were unacceptable 98 percent of the time, not to mention his deep ties with the criminal underworld. Needless to say, someone needed to keep the eyes on the man, 24/7 to roll him back in whenever he stepped out of line.

McCoy volunteered for the job, so whenever Dante showed up, regardless of the crime, McCoy was breathing down his neck. «And your role?» Leon asked, despite that Dante had filled him in on that earlier, he'd like to hear Ada's side of the tale, in case there were any differences. «Dante's a hunter, a killer detective. I worked on whatever he left behind, hoping to find something... anything that would make sense. None of it did.» Ada admitted a little bitterly. McCoy was afraid that if his reports confirmed even a fraction of those wild stories that hung around Dante like a bad smell, the police commissioner would pull the plug. So the details that really mattered in most cases were skipped or altered in the official reports.

Dante kept his own records, those are the real deal. Things worked out mainly because Dante was a bridge between the criminals and the police; we had a crime scene that looked like 30+ people had literally exploded without any form for explosives used, Dante found out what was really going on, produce some random criminal ass as the guy that did it, some fancy, twisted logic explanation of what went down on the crime scene, we caught the criminal with evidence and the whole shebang, case filed, stamped and closed. Their work wasn't always picture perfect, but then Dante took the heat and dodged the bullet.

«Sometimes Dante would come asking us for help with some crazy shit, though for the most part he went solo.» Ada made no effort in hiding that she was glad that Dante preferred to work solo. «Sounds like a twisted version of Batman to me.» Leon mused. Framing criminals for something they strictly speaking hadn't done, jail them for it and catch the guys that really did it off the record, hush, hush, under the carpet and in the shadows. «Batman never kills, Dante never puts his real targets in jail, that's the difference.» Ada pointed out sarcastically.

«One last question.» Leon said as a last request. «Shoot.» Ada grunted. «Is it worth it, getting involved?» He asked her. «Since you ask me, I'll have to honestly admit that it isn't worth it. Ignorance is bliss. I'd sell my soul to whomever is buying, whatever is left of it, to make all of this just... go away from my life, to start over, to take Dante's advice. To never ever insist on that anything of his businesses is real.» Ada replied with an unexpected honesty and openness to her words. Rising from her chair, Ada walked towards the door and stopped in the doorway. «The real question is; now that you know, can you walk away? Can you know what you know and return to blissful ignorance or will it haunt you until it you yield and walk down this damned path of ours?» She asked over her shoulder before leaving, the door slightly ajar.


	8. God of Time

**God of Time**

Dante was driving aimlessly up and down the many streets in Raccoon City. Shifting his weight on the bike, Dante slided from one lane to another effortlessly. He should do this more often he thought to himself. For a change his mind was calm and he had a feeling of content, the slighthly cold air tickled his face and ruffled his hair as he slowed down to get off the highway. There were no stars or moon tonight, a thick carpet of clouds gave them shelter and at the arrival of the sun the very same clouds would cry tears of rain.

Around noon the following day, Dante woke up in his bed as usual. «Awh how I hate mornings.» He grumbled tiredly as he rose from bed and went to the bathroom to freshen up a little. A quick shower later and he felt much better, though his mood dropped when he realized that his fridge was empty, again. «I swear I filled it up just the other day.» Dante complained to himself before hearing some rustling at the front door.

Yanking the door open and pointing Ivory at head level, Dante was expecting the usual punks that hung around in the red light district. Instead he stood face to face with a pile of books. «Oh for the love of...! Don't just stand there, give me a hand!» Trish complained from behind the books. Taking off the top half of the book pile, Dante gave Trish a puzzled look before going back inside. «You're not moving in here, if that's what you're thinking.» He said over his shoulder before he put the books down on the pool table.

Trish followed his example and took a moment to get the blood back out in her fingers as well as catching her breath. «I prefer manga's myself...» Dante commented while browsing through the pile of books. «As entertaining as Akira & Co might be, they're just that: entertainment.» Trish said before beginning sorting out the books. A particular book caught Dante's eye and he gave it a closer look. It appeared to be bound in human flesh and inked in human blood and contained ancient incantations and burial rites. The cover looked wrinkly and brown, with something resembling a face on the front, and the pages contained text in strange characters along with drawings of various evil creatures. «Hey, you even got some classics.» He smiled, showing Trish the book.

Glancing up from the pool table, Trish gave a quick wink before returning to the other books. «Didn't know you were into good ol' Lovecraft.» Dante mumbled, flipping through the pages. «Please be careful with it and whatever you do, don't read out aloud.» Trish cautioned. «Why? It's just a book.» Dante replied. «No Dante, that's the Necronomicon. As in the original, the real thing.» Trish said sounding a little worried as she gently fished the book out of Dante's hands. «For real?» Dante couldn't resist asking, since that was quite something, even by his standards. «Yes, quite real.» Trish assured him before putting the book away.

As interesting as that might be, Dante wondered what this was all about. «So what's the deal?» He asked. «These are for your reference and to study.» Trish explained, patting the now organized books. Dante just stood there flabergasted. «Know your enemies Dante, you'll live longer that way.» Trish pouted, dismissing Dante's expression. «I got to read all of them?» He asked her. «More or less.» Trish agreed. Dante did see Trish's reasoning and he even agreed with her, it was just... such a damn hassle.

Trish helped herself to a closet standing next to Dante's desk and put the books in there. «How's Leon doing by the way?» She asked while putting the books in the closet. «He's hanging in there as far as I can tell. I'll give him a nudge or two once he gets out of the hosipital.» Dante replied. «Where have you been lately by the way?» He added, since it bugged him that Trish just took off and showed up as she saw it fit. «First I went around collecting these books, then I searched all the books for clues that should help me find something we'll need for your training.» Trish explained, putting the last book away.

Letting out a sigh, Trish took a seat at the edge of Dante's desk. «I've no idea why I even bother to look for it though. You're the detective, not me.» She said sarcastically. «I hunt, therefore I am. As long as we're talking ghosts, gouls or something along those lines I'm game, but if you need me to find the cup of Christ or another sacred artifact, forget it. Lara Croft is your girl then.» Dante objected. «C'mon Dante, you should at the very least look at it.» Trish pleaded. Sighing in defeat, Dante said: «Fine, you've got my attention.»

Fetching a pen and a piece of paper, Trish leaned over Dante's desk and started scribling down something. «What we're looking for is the statue of the God of Time.» She explained while scribling. «Can't we just make a flux capacitor, stuff it inside a De Lorean DMC-12 and hit 88 miles per hour instead?» Dante asked. «No we can't.» Trish grunted, clearly not amused by Dante's joke. «They used to be around by the dozen, but in this day and age they're very hard to come by. I would say that our best bet would be to keep our eyes open while raiding devil nests and the like.» She said once she'd finished her scribbling which proved to be a drawing.

Glancing over Trish's shoulder, Dante studied the drawing in more detail. «Is that it?» He asked, pointing. «Yes, at least as far as I can tell from the descriptions from various texts.» She replied. «I've got one of those in my basement.» Dante said with a clever look on his face. «If you're pulling some shit, you're going to burn for a week.» Trish warrned, narrowing her eyes. «No, no. Honestly, come with me and I'll show you.» Dante assured her before he headed towards the door that lead down to the basement. The stairway was narrow and poorly lit, though the water damaged left wall added a little charm to the passageway.

Flipping on the light in the basement, a single light bulb revealed that the basement was just one big barren concrete room. Some stash was stuffed away up against one wall, for the most part locked down in crates, boxes or covered up with old bedsheets. «Could I get a roll of drums please?» Dante grinned as he grabbed one of the old bedsheets and got ready to yank it away. «You'll get a foot up your ass if you're pulling my leg.» Trish snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. Without any futher delay, Dante pulled the sheet away and revealed a golden statue that looked like a humanoid lion resting a great hourglass on its shoulders in a kneeling position. The sand inside the hourglass seemed to be glowing with a special golden/yellow aura.

Trish's eyes lit up like a pair of christmas trees at the sight. «How... where... did you find this? I've been looking everywhere, all over Europe and only found dusty old shadow tales.» She said with facination. «Dunno the details, but I dare say that my old man kept it as a souvenir from the good ol' days or something along those lines.» Dante shrugged. «Amazing...» Trish breathed. «Wouldn't get my hopes too high if I were you, 'cause it's broken. Maybe the batteries are dead or something.» Dante told her. «I'm not sure if I should cry or laugh at your ignorance.» Trish snorted.

Stroking her hand gently over the statue as if assuring herself that it was indeed real, Trish began to explain what it could do. «Like any other god, if you worship it you'll get rewards.» Dante grew sceptical at her words. «Sorry, but I'm not kneeling down and kissing some god's ass.» He objected. «Your stupidity must be the 8th wonder of this world.» Trish dryly commented. «Was that a compliment or an innsult?» Dante asked. «It's open for interpetation.» Trish smiled. «Worshipping the God of Time is quite easy considering your profession.» She continued, not letting the little verbal game between the two get carried off.

Walking up to the statue to give it a closer look, Dante frowned at it. «Can it make me a babe-magnet?» Dante asked Trish hopefully. «No, but if you provide it with blood from slain devils could teach you how to fight more like you father and less like a gun blazing and sword weilding moron.» Trish explained as if she was talking to a child. «Oy, don't diss my style. It makes me look cool.» Dante objected. «If you're going to insist on using it, use it for what it is worth.» Trish suggested. «Ha?» Dante replied, clearly not following her.

Trish took a moment to think of the best way to put it into words. «You need to use more than just brute strength when fighting. You must fight with hand, heart and soul united in harmony. Then you'll be able to harvest the blood essence of your enemies and use it.» She explained carefully. «How do I do that?» Dante asked, guenially intrigued about the subject. «You don't need to let your demonic blood boil sort of speak.» Trish said, hinting towards Dante's demonic form. «There must be... how should I say... harmony.» She tried, but only got a dubdious look from Dante. «Are you shittin' me? Harmony in a fight against some devil smart-ass with more legs than a bug and eyes like a snake?» He was obviously not buying it. «I'm talking about your own inner harmony, that is what is important, fuck the rest.» Trish grunted, a little tired of Dante acting dense.

Looking up at the large hourglass resting on top of the statue, Dante made a face that said «what the hell» before he turned his attention to Trish again and asked her: «Then what? I've got the blood of the devils or whatever, but I'm still clueless of how to use the damn thing.» He finished off by jerkining his thumb at the statue. «Just approach it and things will work out on their own.» Trish assured him. «Are you telling me that this dusty old piece of crap is just all plug & play like some damn Windows program?» Dante demanded, still sceptical. «Have a little faith in your heratige Dante. Your father was one of a kind, in the full meaning of the expression.» Trish smiled as she gently patted his cheek. «Pat my cheek again and it's your ass.» He grumbled to himself.

Back up on the ground floor, Dante picked up a old slice of pizza that lied in a squashed pizza box on the floor and chewed it down. Noticing Trish semi puzzled and disgusted face, he said with a mouthful of pizza: «Breakfast,» as if that brought any justice to his eating habits. «It's only 4 days old and there's no sand on the cheese, so don't gimme any weird looks.» He added once he'd swallowed down. «Whatever, I'm not your mother.» Trish said, giving up. «Say, how come you know so much stuff about devils, statues, books and what not?» Dante asked, taking a seat behind his desk, resting his feet on the desk. «Didn't I tell you that I came on behalf of Trismagia?» She reminded him. «Right, ol' three faces.» Dante said as if he recalled while he was rubbing his finger in his left air. «Be good and read some of those books I gave you, okay?» Trish said before leaving.

Alone at last Dante thought. True he was no all-knowing-son-of-a-gun, but he had been around enough to add two and two together. Trish wasn't someone he trusted yet since both she, Trismagia and the job in general reeked of trouble. For now Dante figured he'd just tag along, but never really letting his guard down. He could play games too and since he after all was a detective, he might as well run his own parallell and independent investigation of things to come. Opening a drawer in his desk, Dante picked up a large red jewel locked in a silvery frame. Holding it firmly in his hand, Dante ran his thumd over the edges of the stone itself, a habit he fell into whenever his mind was troubled or seriously worried.

The phone rang and startled Dante so much he almost lost his balance point in the chair, but recovered and answered the phone in his usual manner: «Devil May Cry...» It was the doc back at the station. A girl from junior high had just come in, drained from blood and bitemarks on her neck. «I'll give Nevan a scolding.» Dante agreed over the phone before hanging up. Early afternoon he mused, looking at the watch that hung on the wall. Hang on, didn't he bust that watch when that voodoo priest tried to curse the Raccoon City water supply last August? Awh no matter, Dante should get moving regardless of what time of the day it was.

It was quite a drive all the way to Shoreside Vale where Nevan lived from Dante's office, but a long drive and some fresh air seemed to be just the thing Dante needed after spending nearly the whole afternoon with Trish and dusty old books. Stopping in front of the majestic gates that lead into Nevan's mansion, Dante spoke briefly with the guard before driving all the way up to the front door of the mansion. The entrance hall of the mansion was large and crowded with pale people dressed in dark and colorless clothes. Despite the sunny day outside, not one ray of sunlight was allowed inside the mansion.

From the top of a large stairway a blood-red haired lady started a slow and gaceful decent. She carried herself like a queen, though she wasn't dressed like one. Her wasit long hair covered her naked greenish skin and it was hard to tell if she was wearing a pitch black skirt or if it was a natural part of her body as it at times looked like it had a life of its own. «Dante darling, what a unexpected surprise.» She greeted him with a seductive smile which revealed her vampire fangs. «Have you finally agreed to join us and kill the werewolves once and for all?» She asked hopefully. «No, just wanted a word with you in private.» Dante said, sniffling a yawn. At the word private, Dante suddenly found at least 3 dozen different fireams pointed at his head, though he didn't flinch. «Oh stop that.» Nevan chillingly scolded her followers. «They insist on the usual terms.» She told Dante as if she was appologying to him.

Without a word Dante stripped off his sword and handed over his guns to one of Nevan's minons. Smiling satisfied, Nevan glided gracefully down a hallway leading to a more private part of the mansion with Dante following her lead. «You look good.» He commented. «Always the joker.» Nevan chuckled, since she hadn't aged a day in physical sense since she turned vampire. Sinking elegantly into a chair, she offered Dante a seat as well before she asked: «What do you want?» Shifting in his chair, Dantecarried on in his usual fashion. «Two small favours. First I'd like to know which one of your guys that killed a kid in junior high.» He admitted.

Since his early years as a devil hutner, there had been an uneasy peace between Dante, the noble vampires and the less civilisted werewolves. Strickly speaking Dante hunted down and killed any given devil at sight, no question asked and no mercy given. However, with Nevan and her followers things were different. For one reason or another, vampires and werewolves were constantly at each others throats. Leaders of both factions were aware of Dante's origins and had numberous of times tried to sway him in their favour with mixed results. As far as Dante was concerened, this was something he used for what it was worth. Playing a dangerous game, Dante juggled the loyalty and patience of both factions as he allowed one devil kill another.

Besides, since both devils could easily pass as a human and the popularity of gothic look, it was risky at best to hunt them. In return for Dante's so-called mercy, Nevan had agreed to get blood from more acceptable sources, such as bloodbanks at the various hospitals. Vampires went in as nurses and doctors constatly working the nightshift, which gave them enough freedom of movement to do what they needed with no one the wiser. The werewolves on their side agreed to withdraw the the abandoned underground tunnels. The digital age also posed a serious threat for someone that didn't age, since too much strange behaviour would get attention of authorities and that wouldn't be good. It was simply easier to keep a low porfile than going through all the hassle of cleaning up the mess after a wild night on the town.

Nevan herself played a dangerous game with high stakes. She, a high ranking vampire was having dealings with the son of Sparda, the great betrayer. If, or rather when Mundus regained his rule, he wouldn't just forgive and forget. Having known Dante's father and seen first hand what he could do, Nevan took a chance and put her entire vampire tribe at Dante's mercy rather than fight him. Dante was also fully aware of that Nevan simply wanted to survive, so she could turn around and stab him in the back at any given time should things really look grim for him. She could and most likely would do so, for the only thing that could clean her name for dealing with the son of Sparda was to offer his head on a silver plate to the Dark Emperor.

«We're probably talking about the ever conservative Lax.» Nevan sighed. Although she was the leader of the tribe and everyone were made her kind by her fangs and her blood alone, there were some internal issues that couldn't be avoided. «That guy? What is he, 5-600 years old?» Dante frowned. «He'll be 589 this December.» Nevan supplied. «Old school for sure. I won't let it slide this time Nevan and I don't need you to talk to him either.» Dante said, rising from his seat. With a cracking sound of thunder a swarm of bats wrapped itself around Dante. Nevan had that ability and a few others which involved bending and hiding inside shadows.

Usually she changed form whenever she got emotional, but that didn't bother Dante too much. «This was not a part of our deal.» Nevan had a omni-sounding voice, so it was hard to find its point of origin. «I'm altering the deal, pray that I'm not altering it any further.» Dante dimissed her pleas unemotionally. He sat still in his seat, waiting for Nevan to come to terms with what he'd told her before asking for his second favour, though by the looks of it he was pushing his luck harder than usual.

Nevan didn't calm down however, she kept on circling around Dante's chair, sparks of thunder snapping angrily between them at random. «Does the name Trismagia say you anything?» Dante asked. «An oracle consisting of 3 heads, one for the past, one for the present and one for the future.» Nevan replied. «What's its story?» Dante continued. «It served as the most trusted advisor of Argosax, the mortal who was granted great powers by Mundus for summoning your father from the Underworld.» Nevan explained. «I didn't see any Argosax and the advisor going behind the back of its master doesn't sound likely. So what happened to this Argosax fellow?» Dante asked then. «Your father sealed him off in a barren world and placed the keys to the seal in the hands of mortals for safe keeping.» Nevan giggled.

Dante took a moment to organize the new information. By the looks of things Trish was high up on the ranking ladder, but what ranking ladder? The one of the devils, angels or perhaps some third side? More qustions and fewer answers. He simply had to stay sharp and hopefully the pieces would present themselves in due time.


	9. We're the Shit

**We're the Shit**

Dante sat on his bike watching down on the Carson General Hospital on Staunton Island. After a long wait the man he was waiting for finally showed himself. Leon S. Kennedy had at long last recovered and was written out of the hospital. Taking a taxi back to the station on Portland, Leon didn't seem to take notice of Dante tailing him like a shadow. Patiently waiting half a block down the street, Dante watched carefully as Leon entered the station before he drove off.

Leon was given a warm welcome by his co-workers on the station and soon headed down to speak with Dr Wong. «Back from the dead already?» She asked Leon the moment he opened the door. «How did you...?» Leon asked puzzled over that she knew it was him, apparently without looking. «Your deodorant, you're the only one that uses it.» Ada replied indifferent as always. Looking around in the autopsy room, not much had changed since his last visit.

In the end Leon's eyes landed on the covered body that rested on a strap bed. It was too small to be an adult, though judging from the curves and size it wasn't a child either. «She came in a few days ago, the killer is unidentified and thus also running around, happy as a clown.» Ada supplied as if she knew where Leon's eyes were looking and what was ticking inside his head. What a creepy ability, Leon thought to himself.

Leon mounted his courage and took a small peek under the sheet covering the body. It wasn't all that bad he mused. Sure it was cold and pale as a corpse, but other than that the body itself was in perfect condition. On a closer inspection, there were a few scratch marks here and there, along with a handful of pale looking bruises. So at least she put up some sort of fight, though it couldn't have been much.

Putting the sheets back over, Leon calmed himself with a few deep breaths. It would take a while for his guts to get used to this sight he figured. «It's your case by the way, so I suppose you'd like to read her file.» Ada mumbled before handing Leon a file. Taking the file, Leon browsed through it. Subject was female (again...), a junior high school student, leader of the student counsel, mom and dad divorced, 3 step brothers from dad's remarriage and she'd died from blood loss «Any theories, doc?» Leon asked, looking up from his file.

Ada seated herself on a office chair, the five wheels creaked a little as she shifted her weight around. «Black market blood sales. She was a AB negative, quite rare and worth a small fortune to the right people.» She replied, making next to no attempt to hide her boredom. «Wouldn't it make more sense to keep her alive?» Leon asked. Signing some papers, Ada paused in her work for a moment before resuming. «I suppose they screwed up detective. Keeping her alive would mean a kidnapping case and making it hard to keep it going in the long run, though it could have made her more valuable as her later adult organs would ten folded her value.» She said, still scribbling.

A small corner of Leon's mind wanted to bring up Dante and related issues, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to it. It was still far to surreal for him to make up his mind regarding what he should do. For now he agreed with himself that he should just take one day at the time and from there make his stand when the time was right. «Okay, I'll take Marvin with me.» Leon sighed, closing the file and heading for the door. «Marvin's not here, he got hit by a golf ball two days ago and is sitting at home with a concussion.» Ada said over her shoulder. Well no matter, Leon thought to himself. It was just the usual question round anyway, so he should do just fine. Heading to the garage, Leon got a patrol car and drove off to the mother's address

The mother lived over at Bedford Point and upon arrival Leon noticed something was off. Looking around, he couldn't get rid of the feeling of being watched. Was it Dante that was crawling around or someone else? Just as it had arrived the feeling faded away to nothing. Still a little uneasy, Leon knocked on the door. The mother lived alone and peeked through the door crack before letting Leon inside.

The two of them talked about Joan, the victim, hoping something might turn up that would lead to the killers capture. Aside from a obsessive attitude towards video games, Joan appeared to Leon as your average young teenager. No drugs, no spooky friends, in fact her mother expressed only some concern regarding Joan's lack of social life though there were no problems at school either. «Well then, I thank you for your time and we'll get back to you as soon as we hear something.» Leon told her as he rose from the sofa.

As Leon drove off and back to the station, Dante walked up and knocked on the door. Again the mother opened the door and peeked through the crack, the door-chain clattering a little. «Where's Lax you heartless bitch?» Dante grumbled, not bothering with greetings or pleasantries. The mother's eyes opened wide in horror and she fanatically tried to push the door shut, but Dante held it open with one hand.

Whimpering in sheer fear, the mother gave up and made a run for the back. With a simple vertical punch, Dante busted the door chain and walked into the house. Picking up the telephone from a nearby table as he walked after the mother, he yanked it free from the cord connected to the wall and threw it with full force after the mother. It hit her hard in the middle of her back and she tripped over herself, landing flat on her chest. For a small moment she lied completely still, then slowly she began crawling towards the back.

Turning his attention to the sofa, Dante picked up a fat pillow, walked over to the mother and put it against her lower leg before he planted one of his guns on top of the pillow. «Where's Lax?» He asked. The mother just kept on crawling, she probably didn't feel the gun, just the pillow. Pulling the trigger, a muffled gun blast shot through the room and Dante quickly darted forward to silence the mother's screams with his free hand. «I'm good at hurting people, it's what I do. So, where's Lax?» He whispered in her ear.

Crying muffled tears, the mother gave no indication that she'd answer. Moving the pillow further up to her lower back, Dante made an extra point by pressing the gun harder against her body. «Where's Lax?» He asked again. The mother just kept on crying silent tears, her face flushed in a pink blush. Another shot fired, the mother jerked around in pain and howls of agony could be faintly heard from behind Dante's gloved hand. Distant police sirens caught his attention, looking over his shoulder, out the open front door and across the street he saw the neighbor nervously observing from behind the curtains, phone in hand.

Looking down at the floor Dante saw two pools of blood that would soon merge into one. «Sorry sweetheart, we don't time for anything else.» He whispered to the mother as he holstered his gun. Placing one hand on the top back of her head and the other under her chin, Dante tightened his grip. Just then, in a last desire to live, the mother called out at the top of her lunges for help, a cry cut off in mid word at the cracking sound of a neck being broken.

Stepping away from the body, Dante quickly wiped his boots clean from blood and darted out the back. Sirens were louder and increasing in numbers, looking quickly from left to right to get his bearings, Dante jumped over some garden fences and slided through some narrow backways to get some distance between him and the scene. Taking a long route to get back to his bike, Dante drove off with no one the wiser. On his way back to the office, he stopped by some local bums that stood around a burning oil barrel. «Nice day today, eh boys?» Dante asked, taking off his gloves and tossing them into the fire. «Very nice Mr D, you have a good day.» One of the bums smiled, showing his many missing teeth.

Leon was busy over at the Old School Hall right next to the Callahan Bridge when he got the call that Joan's mother had been attacked then killed. He rushed over to the scene and met up with Dr Wong inside the mother's house. «What's the story?» He asked the forensic. Glancing over her shoulder, Dr Wong just frowned a little before turning back to her work. «She got shot twice, pillow was used as an improvised silencer and cause of death was a broken neck.» Dr Wong mumbled while searching the dead body's clothing. «Shot? That doesn't seem to fit with the psychological profile, so this isn't the same guy that's responsible for Joan's death?» Leon asked, helping himself with a couple of plastic gloves.

Picking up a small straw of hair, Dr Wong looked at it closely before letting out a long drawn sigh. «You're quite right detective, this isn't the same guy that killed Joan.» She said, wrapping up the hair in a small plastic bag. «Any witnesses?» Leon asked a fellow police officer who guarded the scene. «The guy across the street saw a big guy go in, kneel over the victim, then leaving.» The officer supplied. As the air reeked of blood, Leon left the house and crossed the street to question the neighbor further.

The neighbor was quite shaken up as he answered the door, not willing to open the door, just talking through a narrow crack. Unfortunately he couldn't supply Leon with anything useful, blaming it on the heat of the moment, obscured view, odd angle for viewing and other gibberish. «Well then, if you do recall anything please give us a call.» Leon said finally, handing over his card. He was about to take his leave when the man stammered something. Halting in his track, Leon half turned to see if he was just imagining things. «Y-y-y-you know... the guy he-he-he... was running towards the subway af-after he came around the back.» The neighbor stuttered.

After Leon left, the neighbor closed the door and his breath trembled with fear. «You did well Mr Jameson.» Dante smiled, finally putting away the gun he had pointed at Mr Jameson's neck during Leon's questioning. «P-p-please, don't kill me. I never saw a thing and I've done what you've asked.» He pleaded to Dante. «Relax, just don't piss your pants next time around okay?» Dante chuckled as he walked casually out the back door.

Dr Wong was wrapping up things at the scene, so Leon decided to follow up the only lead he had so far; the subway. Taking with him another officer, the two headed for the nearest subway station and looked around for something, or quite frankly anything out of the ordinary. They stopped people at random, asking a few questions before moving on and repeating. There was a ragged bum sleeping in a pile of paper trash, holding his whiskey bottle close to his chest that caught Leon's eye. It could be just a trick of the lights and shadows, but it looked like he had dried blood on his chin. Not just a small spot either, it was more like the whole chin was covered with it. It could of course also be just plain old dirt from somewhere. With these guys you never knew and you didn't really want to know either.

«Mister? Do you have a minute? R.P.D., I'd like to ask you a few questions.» Leon said as he approached the bum. One moment the bum was deep in wonderland, the next he jerked to life as if he had a bolt of thunder shoved up his ass and leaped out of his paper bed before scrambling away. Leon called after the other officer and the two gave after in pursuit. The bum ran and hid himself inside the mens WC, which , Leon noted, was surprisingly clean for a subway WC. The bum smashed his whiskey bottle and used the broken bottleneck to slash wildly in the air, to keep the two police officers away. «Calm down mister, we don't want to hurt you.» Leon tried the diplomatic approach first.

One of the bums random slashes cut Leon's partner and quickly resulted in a couple of shots being fired, though they hit nothing but walls and floor. «Are you aiming for an Oscar or something?» A man grumbled from the doorway. All three men stopped dead in their tracks and spun around towards the voice. «Been a while... Lax.» Dante said as he stepped into the light, a large sword strapped across his back and a sawed-off double-barreled shotgun in his left hand. «You think you're something special, but I've seen your type plenty of times. Loud as a motorbike, but couldn't bust a grape in a foodfight. What proof is there that you are even one tenth of the man you claim to be, Dante?» The bum snorted, his attitude and composure changed drastically as if the whole bum look was just a mask.

Calmly Dante drew his large sword with his right hand, pointing the tip down at the floor to his right. A gun got cocked and everyone turned their attention towards the source of the sound. The officer that Leon had brought along was pointing his revolver at Dante. «D-d-d-drop the sword and the shotgun and-and-and keep your hands where I can see them.» He stuttered. The gun was trembling with fear, despite that it was being held with both hands. Dante gave him an annoyed look. «You remember what happened last time, don't you – officer Sheridan?» Dante asked the officer. In a fraction of a second something seemed to snap inside the officers mind and before anyone could react, the officer put the revolver at his own temple and pulled the trigger. The bang sounded extra loud and far more bone chilling than the previous shots.

Leon just stood there gaping at the blood splattered wall as pieces of brain and skull slided downwards. «Leon, get out.» Dante grunted. «Like hell I'm going to walk away from this! This is an official police investigation and you have no fucking businesses down here Dante, so YOU get out!» Leon objected loudly. With a expression that looked somewhere between dull, bored and annoyed, Dante pointed his shotgun at the bum called Lax and pulled both triggers. The smoke of gunpowder sunk into Leon's nose, his ears was ringing from the loud bang and his head felt like it would bust open at any moment. Swaying around like a drunkard with a blurred vision, Leon saw Lax falling to the floor, presumably dead.

Walking up to Leon, Dante snatched a wooden pencil from one of Leon's pockets. «I'll just borrow this while you get some rest.» He whispered in Leon's ear before he dropped the shotgun and used his free hand to slam Leon's head against the nearest wall, knocking his lights out. Before Leon's unconscious frame even hit the floor, Dante walked over to Lax and stood astride over him. «You're dust n' bones Lax.» He grunted. «Dante, you son of a bitch... I curse you!» Lax spat, blood flowing from his mouth and wounds. «Yeah, yeah... silver instead of lead, gets you guys every time.» Dante smiled before diving down without warning or mercy, digging Leon's wooden pencil through Lax's heart.

Gathering his belongings, sheeting his sword and dusting vampire ash of his clothing, Dante took one last look around the WC before he left. Flipping on his cellphone, Dante started a speed dial as he climbed the stairs up to street level. «Doc, Leon needs a pickup in the subway, officer Sheridan had a close encounter of the fatal kind with his own gun and I've dusted the killer. I'll give Leon an anonymous tip later when I have a scapegoat for him to catch.» Dante said, killing the conversation before Ada could dig up a reply to his instructions.


	10. Scissor Sisters

**Scissor Sisters**

Wednesday, probably the lousiest day of the week. You're too deep in to get out and the only way towards the weekend is forward. It sucks and that in a bad way. Toss in 7 dead bodies, all mutilated in some rather creative way, the reeking stench of blood and top it off with the lovely task of picking up intestines from underneath a sofa that hasn't seen a vacuum-cleaner since the late 50's and you just know you're shit out of luck for the rest of the week, weekend included.

Just another day at the office they'd say, but even the veterans gag at this scene. The only one that manages to keep a straight face is the forensic, Ada Wong. God knows what it would take for her face to turn pale and vomit to come splashing through her fingers as she battles in vain to keep it down. On the other hand, lets hope and pray that we'll never come over such a crime scene, ever. While Leon looked around the dining room he tired to force some common sense into this crime.

The killers were obviously not a member of the mentally sane and normal club, they liked their tools big and sharp and ganged around their targets, whom were all male. Alright, so far things are making sense, Leon thought. Now over to the strange part; there are no hints of a broken entry, suggesting that the killers were either friends, family, cunning enough to get a duplicate key, skilled enough to pick locks or good at timing when to strike. On second thought Leon cut off the last option, since there were a minimal sign of struggle as if it was an ambush, making a clean entry more likely.

The victims were cut down, literary, right where they stood. Judging from how they were killed and the position of the bodies along with blood trail it is possible to say who was the first to drop and make a list from that. The first victim was standing next to a wall painting. So that gives the attacker a 180 degrees to attack from, right? The C.S.I. guys are still patching things up, so they might have missed a spot or a clue somewhere, but as it stands right now, it doesn't make any sense.

According to the C.S.I. guys the blood splash on the walls indicates that the first victim was attacked from the front. Taking the estimated size of the weapon, that's not possible. The victim was standing just 2 feet away from the wall and there's no way a cutting tool of the estimated size could fit into that gap. Leon looked over his notes again along with a rough sketch one from the C.S.I. team had drawn for him. The numbers didn't add up, plain and simple.

Something else was also troubling Leon's mind. None the other victims made a run for the exits, despite that the room had 3 of them, one of them being a double door that lead straight to the main hall and then to freedom. Instead they appeared to have moved away from not only the doors, but the walls in general. As a pack sheep they were rounded up near the center of the room and then cut down. «You're attacked, you head to the exit... why didn't they? Too many attackers, so they had someone to spare to cover the exits?» Leon mumbled to himself, tapping his notes with his wooden pencil.

That didn't sound right. They were dealing with 7 grown men after all, not a bunch of kindergarten kids. A brief thought crossed Leon's mind. It was just a name, a face and a chilling feeling in his spine; Dante. Leon discarded the idea quickly. First of this wasn't Dante's style as far as Leon could tell. These were good honest men, and Dante never made a clean entry, he kicked the doors down and went in with guns blazing. His sword, strength and ability to completely paralyze people with just a faint glare with his eyes made him a plausible suspect. Then again, could one man really round up 6 others like that? It looked to Leon as if they were circled down by multiple attackers, like whales rounding up a school of fish.

Trish, a blonde woman shrouded in mystery, had hinted to Leon that Dante wasn't alone, that he had some sort of devil by his side. That could justify some of it, but even so... «If I remember correctly, Dante's... pet never comes around unless the shit hits the fan.» Leon frowned as he walked outside to catch a breath of fresh air for a change.

Out in the driveway several police cars stood parked, their sirens blinking and flashing up the garden as if it was a cheap disco from the 70's. «Excuse me.» An old man asked Leon. Turning around, Leon came face to face with the old man, whom stood a little crooked, leaning on his walking cane, lack of hair on his head, though he compensated with a really big mustache. «Do you know about this, this Dante person?» He asked Leon. «Ah, no not really. I've just run into him a couple of times that's all.» Leon replied.

«So he IS real then?» The man asked. «Well, yes.» Leon answered, though he quickly added: «I'd recommend that you don't get involved with that man, sir.» The old man didn't seem to listen to the last part of Leon's reply since he then asked where he could find or how he could get in touch with Dante. When Leon tried as diplomatically as possible to refuse to give any details, the old man got angry and started to lash about how he'd lost all of his grandchildren in a single day, how it was HIS tax money that paid Leon's salary and that at the end of the day, the police was meant to serve and protect.

Being afraid that even of he put the foot down and not give any details of Dante's location, the old man might do something rash such as go look after Dante on his own, Leon gave in and told him the address. When he offered the old man a lift and escort, since it was a unsafe neighborhood, the old man's anger flamed up again, this time about what he did on Pearl Harbor on the day of the fateful attack and that he wasn't at all helpless. In the end, Leon was just glad to get away from the old man. Yup, there was no mistaking it, Wednesday's sure suck.

Back at Dante's office, things were absolutely terrible. The stereo system had broken down and there was no way Dante could get anything done without some rock tunes in the background. Well, he COULD pick up one of those books that Trish dropped at him a few weeks back and actually read like he's suppose to. «Meh, the only thing I'll be reading today is Playboy.» He shrugged it off. While he was wondering if he should head over to Sex Club 7 for a change of scenery, a good view (ahem) and sweet rock tunes to boot, Dante got a visitor.

«Oi pops, we're closed for today due to technical difficulties, so take a hike.» Dante said to his visitor, which for the record was probably the oldest person to ever enter Dante's place. «Are... are you Dante?» He asked Dante. «Dante's the name, huntin' the game. Whaddya want pops?» He told the old man. «I need your help, Mr Dante. I... I don't have much money, but...ah...» The old man began. «Look pops, this ain't no old people's home and it ain't no social security either. I don't help old people over the street, I'm in no mood to fix you some new teeth and I sure as hell don't wanna change your diaper, so scram.» Dante complained before he crouched down and turned his attention back to his precious yet broken stereo system.

The old man was boiling over with outrage. Kids these days, he thought to himself before he took a solid grip on his walking cane and gave Dante a solid whack on the back of his head. «What the...?!» Dante objected, rising to his full height in a flash. Before Dante could speak another word, the old man went on with a long and loud scolding. After a good 10 minutes of none stop babbling about how things were so much better during the Kennedy administration and that kids these days where beyond hope, Dante lost his temper and shoved Ebony straight into the old man's mouth to shut him up.

«Pops, meet Ebony, Ebony this is pops.» Dante said smiling. Cocking the gun with a slow click, Dante's smiled grew more sinister. «Ebony says hi.» He said to the old man, whom much to his surprise didn't back down. Pulling Ebony away, Dante crossed the arms over his chest, gun still in hand and leaned his back against the wall. «Alright pops, for real this time, whaddya want?» He asked seriously. «I had 7 grandchildren, they all moved to this town to start over. Combining their savings they bought a big house and wanted to live together there, but...» The old man began.

«...they told me over the phone and in letters that the house was... bad somehow. There was always periods of laughter, wicked sinister laughter, cold metallic clinging sounds as swords or something of the like were being sharpened. But the house was empty! When I came to visit, I found them all dead in the dining room. The police are running around in circles, caught between the naked facts of the crime and common sense. They'll give up soon and the case will be unsolved! Please Mr Dante, I ask not of much, just peace in my final years before I join my dear Ellone.»

Dante thought for a moment, then walked over to his desk and fumbled around until he found a small rusty looking coin. «Heads or tails pops? If you pick the right one, I'll do it, no charge. If you're wrong, walk out without any fuzz and don't come back ever again.» He explained the deal to his newfound client plainly and simple. «H-h-heads!» The old man said with determination, as if he was trying to bend the coin into showing the right side. The coin flipped high into the air and Dante snapped it in mid air as it came back down. Opening his fist, Dante took a pause as he looked at the coin. «Gimme your grandkids address pops, I've got work to do.»

Ada packed down her gear and tore off her rubber gloves before picking up her crime scene kit. Walking out to the driveway, she paused in the main hall and looked out in thin space. Rather than going back to her car to put the kit away, she turned the corner and headed straight to the garage. «Another devil?» She asked into the shadows. «How'd you spot me?» Dante asked, coming walking slowly out of the darkness as if he was made of it. «Women's intuition.» Ada replied with a bored and indifferent face.

A pause followed, Ada hated when he did this. «You shouldn't be here Dante, the police see you as a bad omen.» She told him, knowing that although they wouldn't last 90 seconds against whatever Dante fought on a regular basis, they did take care of the more down to earth cases, which Dante ignored completely. A drop in moral amongst law officers could be catastrophic to say the least. «Bad omen huh? Runs in the family I guess.» Dante mumbled more to himself than to Ada.

The conversation slowed down to a halt again. «Business or pleasure?» Ada asked, dragging the conversation into a limping momentum. «Business, ol' granddaddy wants some rest in his final years, can't sleep well with killers like these on the loose.» Dante explained. «Charity work, you? How sweet and charming...» Ada commented sarcastically. «Keep your sarcasm to yourself doc, it's my charity that kept and still keeps you alive.» Dante reminded her.

Point taken, Ada noted to herself. «So, shall I give you the tours of the crime scene or do you wanna snoop around on your own?» She asked Dante. «I'll do some digging elsewhere first, then come back when your boys are done.» He replied, scratching his nose a little. «Go easy on the guy that guards the scene this time, okay?» Ada said before turning around and walking towards her car. «That last time wasn't my fault, she stood right on top of the bugger and it bit her legs clean off.» Dante objected.

Sneaking out the back, Dante mounted his bike and drove off to the city library. He wasn't much of a reader, but he knew from bitter experience that it paid off to do your homework if you're up against something unknown of the supernatural kind. Armed with address in hand, Dante took on the task to search for clues about the house itself and the people that had built it and lived there. By closing hour he had a vague idea of what house it was and who had lived there.

Riding back to his office to lock and load up with his usual gear, Dante decided that he'd give Trish's books a go. If he could dig something up there, that fitted with the image of the house, he could narrow down the nature of his enemy even better. Well back at the office, Dante grabbed a couple of Trish's books that looked like they contained what he was after. «Okay, lets see...» He mumbled as he sat on his desk with a book in his lap.

Cursed water, cursed mud, cursed rock, cursed grass, cursed clothing, cursed doors, cursed genitals... Nothing in book #1 Dante concluded, slamming it shut. The second book didn't make any sense at all. «Am I even holding this thing the right way?» Dante asked himself, turning the book around in his hands. Eventually he gave up and flipped open the third book. «Awh man, what's this? Latin?» He frowned at the page. «Pretty pictures though... blood and gore, hehehehe.» He added, chucking to himself.

The 4th and last book proved useful. Dante read page after page about spirits and how they interacted with the realm of the living. «Well that should do it. I'll just improvise the rest.» He said to himself before he put the book away and gathered his guns and sheathed his sword across his back. The drive back to the crime scene where he'd talked to Ada earlier was uneventful. Dante's personal urban legend proved handy yet again. Once in the neighborhood of the crime scene, Dante grabbed a empty bottle from a trashcan that stood next to his parked bike and then he strolled casually towards the crime scene.

Throwing his sword into the driveway to catch the guarding officer's attention, Dante dashed around and hit the guard in the back of the head with the bottle, leaving him with a broken bottleneck in his hand and a unconscious officer in the middle of the driveway. «All too easy.» Dante grinned before picking up his sword. Raccoon City was a rough city to live in and random attacks on police officers wasn't unheard of. Dante used this as a smokescreen for his own activities, since he wanted his urban legend alive and kicking, yet not well known enough for the federal government to come knocking.

It was another game of delicate balance that Dante played, not all to different than the one he played with vampires and werewolves, just with different methods and motives. Speed dialing another number on his mobile while looking around inside the house, Dante waited for Ada to pick up. «Dr Wong speaking.» She grumbled at the other end. «Hey, what's up doc?» Dante laughed. «I'm in the tub Dante, what is it?» Ada sighed. «Never fails huh, take a shower or bath and the phone rings. I'll keep this short, just give me brief details on the scene and I'll leave you to your bathing, promise.» He assured her over the phone.

Knowing there was no point in arguing, Ada gave in and got it over with. 7 victims, all grown men, no forced entry, cut down with large scissor like weapons and it was most likely multiple attackers. «Thanks doc, you're the best. I'll buy you some candy on my way home, okay?» Dante joked before hanging up. Straighting up, Dante cracked his left shoulder a little before taking a few deep breaths. «Alright, come out come out wherever you are, whatever you are.» He called out to the empty rooms and hallways of the house as he took another round to look around for something of interest.

Peeking through the double door and over the yellow crime scene tape, Dante got a vague idea of what had happened based on Ada's input along with the blood splashes on the walls and floor. «Scissors, eh?» He noted to himself before moving on to another room. The house itself was empty and its emptiness only increased its sense of size. While Dante climbed the stairway to the second floor, he got the feeling that he was being watched and he could hear faint laughter mixed in with delighted giggling of the insane type. «They are probably one of the low-class evil spirits that can only exist by taking the shape of physical objects that Trish's book mentioned.» Dante mused to himself.

Coming up on the second floor, Dante walked casually over to a door and was just about to open it when he noticed the tips of a open scissor sticking out through the door. The scissor tips then started to slide around over the door and on to the wall on the right. «These evil spirits have chosen deadly scissors as their shape, though why?» Dante wondered as he kept his eyes on the scissors. With the sound of a chilling winter wind, the first spirit slided through the wall and started gliding effortlessly through the room. «Well thank you for volunteering Mr or Mrs evil... thingy.» He smiled at the spirit as he pulled out his guns.

Taking a relaxed aim, Dante fired at will until both Ebony and Ivory were dry on bullets. He did hit something alright, the wall behind and the roof above the spirit, but the spirit itself was unaffected. «Have some manners will you? You know, like... die when someone shoots you?» Dante pouted at the spirit. Their capes proved to be nothing then illusions created by the evil spirits. «Alright, plan B.» He stated, reloading his guns before holstering them and drawing his sword.

Upon drawing his sword it was as if the spirit first took noticed of him. It reacted by giving off a thin and high pitched scream before closing in on Dante's position. Since the spirit itself was quite slow, Dante easily avoided the attack, if one could call it that. It was more as if the two of them were testing each other out. When it descended with its scissors, Dante noted that there's a short moment of time when it was off guard. «Nice... your cape is mine.» Dante smirked with satisfaction as he darted forward for an attack.

With a metallic clash, their weapons connected and was jammed in a lock. Dante managed to juggle free his sword and followed up with a series of quick strikes with low attack power. He concluded that since the scissors themselves were just a weapon, the object that gave this spirit a physical presence must be that annoying mask it wore. So in a nutshell; These evil spirits are dependent on the masks they wear. They cannot exist without them. Which gave Dante the idea of knocking the scissors out of its hands, will leave the mask defenseless. This would be Dante's chance to blast his guns at it.

Dante's theory worked like a charm in real life; a strong and wide blow knocked the scissors out of the way and before it could fall back or regain its composure, Dante blasted away with Ivory at point blank range. The mask shattered, causing the spirit to shriek in agony and horror as it was forcibly dragged back to where it came from. Its scissors flung into the air and dug themselves into the floor before they too shattered and vanished like the spirits mask had.

Figuring that the show was over, Dante was actually quite pleased to have fought a spirit for a change. No blood, gore or dead body to dispose of. It made Dante's day so much brighter. Unfortunately, things didn't go quite as smooth as he first thought. Perhaps there was more to that spirits death scream than Dante knew. When Dante was midway in the stairway leading down to the first floor, several other spirits of the same type came sliding and gliding through the floor, walls and ceiling.

Perhaps the first one was just a scout, that they had somehow smelled Dante's blood and knew that he was more than just bad news. These other spirits wasted no time gliding around, they started right away to circle themselves in on Dante. Being stuck in the middle of the stairway gave him limited options as far as dodging and maneuverability went. «So this is how you did it, huh? Sneak out from the walls, snip, snip one and then circle in the rest? No wonder the guys were neatly lying around in the center of the dining room.» Dante said to the spirits as he kept a close eye on their movements.

The spirits themselves gave no answer, other than their occasional scream mixed in with their creepy laughter and giggling. One of them dove down for an attack, but Dante countered by giving it a few quick and precise rounds from Ebony. Shrieking in pain, the spirit halted its attack and fled through the floor for shelter. «Coward...» Dante snorted, holding sword in one hand, his gun in the other. Spinning around and parring a string of snip and stab attacks from the two other spirits, Dante grumbled to himself in his mind that he should have brought the shotgun with him after all.

Through a series of jumps, Dante managed to get himself out of the stairway and to the more opened spaced main hall. «Okay, look... does anyone of you guys happen to be the one that killed a small kid, he looked just like me?» Dante asked the spirits, whom replied by opening their scissors wide over their masks. «I'll take that as a no.» He sighed before darting into the middle of the trio.

At the break of dawn, Dante found himself in front of a old people's home, where the old man lived. Walking up to the reception desk, Dante said: «I need to talk to one of your residents, an old man... short temper and gives anyone an good scolding.» The nurse behind the desk looked up and quickly shrunk back and into her chair as she looked up at Dante's battered frame. «A wild night on the city, women these days I tell you.» Dante smiled to her, as if that was the reason why his clothes were torn and he had cuts scattered over his arms and torso.

He was guided through the many quiet hallways and finally to room 302 where the old man sat, looking out the window at the rising sun, resting his hands on his walking cane. «Could we have a minute?» He asked the nurse, whom eagerly agreed and excused herself. «Oi pops, how are things going?» He called out to the old man. «Mr Dante, I didn't expect to get such a visit.» The old man greeted him. «Just figured I'd get this out of the world quick, so you don't come around to haunt me. Got enough of those already, no need to start a collection.» Dante said, walking into the room. Looking around it was the same as every other old people's home room; pale and depressing.

«Is it done then?» The old man asked Dante. «Yup, went through every room in the whole house, though there were just 4 of those things. The house is clean and your boys are revenged.» Dante replied. The old man sighed with relief, as if a thousand kilos had been lifted off his back. «Thank you Mr Dante, you're a kind soul.» He told Dante. «Dunno about that, but I have my moments.» Dante coughed.

A pause followed before Dante figured that he'd done what he came here to do, so it was time to leave. «I'll get going, so you can go back to... whatever you spend your days doing.» He said, sounding a little uncomfortable. Walking towards the exit, the old man called after Dante: «Waiting. I spend my days waiting.» Dante halted in his walk and hesitated for a moment before he asked: «For what?» The old man let out a long and deep sigh before he replied in a matter-of-fact tone of voice: «Death.» Awh hell, I knew I should have kept quiet Dante thought to himself as he quickened his pace and left the old people's home.

As the lunch break hit in at the R.P.D, Leon dropped down to Ada's place in the basement to show her something. «Hey doc, got a minute?» He asked, popping into the morgue. «Several, none are for sale though.» Ada said with a muffled voice as she chewed down her lunch. «That guy that guarded the crime scene with those 7 men was knocked out last night.» Leon said, pushing Ada's little joke aside. «Some kid's prank.» Ada replied, taking no interest in the conversation at hand. «Several shot had been fired inside the house.» Leon continued, taking a seat next to Ada. «Some criminal thug that was drunk, knocked out the cop for the heck of hit then had a fun time inside with his brand new gun.» Ada, again dismissed Leon's arguments as if they were nothing out of the ordinary.

Leon pulled out a small transparent plastic bag from his pocket and put it on the table between him and Ada. «Your thug didn't carry a gun, more like a small anti-aircraft cannon by the looks of these bullets we dug out from the holes in the wall, the floor and ceiling. Hell they were all over the place.» Leon said, pointing at the bag and its content. Sighing, Ada sat up straight in her chair and looked at Leon. «What is the point you are trying to raise, detective?» She asked him. Leon countered the question with one of his own: «What is the point you are trying to dismiss, doctor?» Ada looked down on the bullets, her eyes drawn into their copper jackets. Her profile, her face said it all; Dante had been there, it was the one thing that Ada's stone cold poker face couldn't hide.


	11. Bloody Mari

**Bloody Mari**

Leon sat in his chair at the police station, pondering. He thought over the words that Ada had told him when he was hospitalized. From there his mind drifted to the many worried looks and warnings he'd been given by Martin. Last but not least, his attention ended with the vision of McCoy's death along with a few blurry memories of Dante's guardian devil.

All leads on the killer that had vanished in the restroom at the back of the supermarket were colder than the corpses he'd left behind. Daughter had her blood drained, mother had been shot and killed with a broken neck in her own home. Neighborhood was shaken to the core, not by the murder itself, but the murderer. No one was talking or even thinking of doing so. Then, there was Dante.

Several times had he been spotted around locations relevant to the case at hand. Was he the killer? Or at the very least some part of it all? What part; big, small? Mastermind pulling the strings or the gauntlet that did all the work based on instructions? Instructions from whom? Dante bowing to someone, the very idea was stupid. Leon wanted to look into it more, though he knew that once he started down that path, he'd take most of the steps on his lonesome.

He remembered his first day, when the chief had called him in and warned him to keep an eye out for the real bad-guys, not silly folktales about Dante. It was too much to simply ignore. Leon decided to at least mention it to the chief and take it from there. Worst case scenario was that he'd get chewed out, but beyond that there was nothing more to worry about.

Leon took the trip up to the secretaries office and mentioned that he'd like to talk to the chief. She said the chief was currently out of town on some business regarding a special force being assigned to the city, but she'd mention it to him when he returned. A little disappointed, Leon returned to his desk to look over his case again.

Another hour dragged by and feeling restless, Leon figured he might as well take the bull by the horn. First stop would be Marvin. He must have seen or heard something that made him view Dante as he did. Checking the timetable, he made note that Marvin was on guard duty down at the cells in the basement. Heading downstairs, Leon wanted to put Marvin in the corner and not let him out until he gave some straight answers.

Marvin sat down at the desk in front of the entrance to the cell room. It wasn't much, but it was enough to hold a couple of guys until they could be shipped off to a larger prison or another location. Not much was happening and Marvin kept himself busy by reading a book. «Hey Marvin, I want to talk to you about something.» Leon said as he walked up to his colleague. «Sure thing, I could use some company.» Marvin replied, putting away his book.

A bit uncertain of how to approach the subject, Leon figured in the end it was best to just dive in with both feet right off the bat. «It's about that P.I, Dante.» Leon began. Just the mentioning of the name made Marvin shrink back in his chair. «I mean, what's the deal with the guy? He's just a guy. Big and scary at times, but hey... just a guy.» Leon carried on. Marvin on the other hand didn't seem to agree.

Shifting in his chair, Marvin looked around as to make sure no one was with earshot. «Man... you've read the files right? Isn't that enough?» Marvin said with a small voice. Granted, the files involving Dante were colorful to say the least, but aside from an unusual strong support from the criminal underworld, there wasn't really anything special. «Apparently not, since we're standing here having this conversation.» Leon replied firmly.

Hesitating, weighing one option up against the other, Marvin finally decided to talk again. «The guy killed McCoy and they... they were like brothers. At least that's what it looked like from the outside.» Leon was taken by surprise. Marvin and the others knew, and yet they still didn't take Dante in?

«Everyone knew, the evidence pointed to the Japanese, but that was bullshit from nine to five.» Marvin explained. He carried on telling how some of the officers wanted to take Dante in, but the chief told them to stuff it and stick to the evidence at hand. They didn't listen. Instead they decided to take the law in their own hands and bring justice to the McCoy's.

They took their time preparing, going underground for a good week. Then, in the dusk on the night before they would strike Devil May Cry, Dante knocked on each of their doors and gave them a home visit. In front of husband and wife, the officers couldn't do anything but trembled with frustration over their own helplessness. Apparently the meetings were all civilized, though there are no details about what really went down. All the officers in question either resigned or asked for a transfer to another state shortly afterwards.

«That's it?» Leon asked when Marvin was done. «They had murder in their eyes Leon! And he sniffed them out like a candle, just by talking to them.» Marvin objected. «That's what convinced you to just walk away whenever Dante's on the scene?» Leon asked. Marvin shook his head in reply. He had stayed clear of Dante since the day they first met.

He was just a cadet back then, his first day out in the field. Marvin along with his two senior officers answered a call regarding trouble at a china-town restaurant. The Triad and the Yakuza were having a meeting there, though they had been doing more than just talking. When they entered there were dead bodies everywhere.

The bodies were mutilated beyond recognition; blood, gore and body parts scattered about as if a container of torn bodies and tipped its content through the front door. A silence from the depths of the grave clung to every part of the main room. Once the initial shock had subsided to acceptable levels, Marvin had heard children crying in the back. The stench was intense, but they somehow pressed backwards towards the kitchen.

It was there Marvin met Dante for the first time. He was just a kid, 10-11 years old, the clothes he wore were torn, too small and covered with blood. In his tiny hands he held a chainsaw that was almost as large as himself. Marvin recalled how Dante had turned around slowly and looking straight through him as if he was nothing, not even the dirt under some ant's foot.

That blood smeared face, those ice cold and hollow eyes along with a blank face made Marvin wet himself. Behind the boy that was Dante, a pair of Asian children sobbed. They too were spattered with blood, but appeared to be okay otherwise. Backup arrived and they took the children to the station.

The twins was taken home to their parents after a routine check with the doctor, too traumatized to be questioned and they didn't speak a word English. Dante on the other hand had no one to turn to. Public records showed that his father was unknown, mother had died in a harsh murder some 5 years earlier and that was it. He sat there at the station, not moving a muscle saving his calm breathing and the occasional eye blink.

At this point Leon decided to not press any further. Marvin was almost at tears by now. He could fill in the blanks himself. Marvin knew right from the start that Dante was something... whatever it was, it was not good. Yet he felt powerless to stop Dante, all he could do was watch passively from the sidelines as a ghosts shadow. Dante grew up and in his wake, evil died.

Feeling eyes on his back, Leon turned around and found Dante leaning against the wall with a lollipop in his mouth. «You through?» Dante asked. Marvin looked up and as their eyes met, it looked like Marvin was about to break inside. Strangely he didn't and it wasn't until Leon turned to face Dante again that he saw why. It wasn't much, but it was there. In Dante's eyes there was a ever faint sign of regret.

Breaking the mood, Leon asked: «What do you want, Dante?» Scratching his nose a little and sniffing a little, Dante began to explain. He was working on a case for the Leone family and would like to get some police support on the matter. «Why? I find it hard to believe there's anything in this town you can't handle.» Leon pointed out. «Oh don't be like that. I do all the hard work, you get all the credit. I don't see the problem.» Dante shot back with a childish voice.

Despite his better judgment, Leon agreed. He wanted to see Dante out in the field, so who was he to pass on front row tickets? Besides, at the bottom of the line, Leon was probably the only cop on the station that would take this job. «What's the gig?» Leon asked Dante as the two walked out of the station side by side.

Dante elaborated on the details as they walked. Salvatore Leone, the big daddy of the Italian mafia had a new girlfriend. All well and good until someone decided they wanted to hurt the lady. Not much of a problem, since the Leone mansion at the Portland Beach was nothing short of a small army camp. Dozens of men in suits, black Mercedes, sunglasses and shotguns in their leather gloved hands stood for security. Put in state of the art alarm system and you've got to be asking for some serious trouble if you come at the wrong time through the wrong door.

Since his bike was in for repairs, Dante got a ride with Leon in a patrol car up to the mansion. It was the number 1 estate on Portland, hands down. The view was amazing as well as its location in the district; high and no close neighbors. Leon reminded himself of what he had been told about Dante. If there was something the gangster's couldn't handle on their own and didn't want the law involved, they called Dante. Just what in the world was this thing that they couldn't handle?

When the two arrived, Dante was given a warm welcome, while Leon had to tag along as if he was Dante's little kid. Salvatore exchanged chatter and pleasantries with Dante in the living room, explaining that Maria, his girlfriend, was currently out shopping and would come home soon. The subjects covered ranged from music, social events, food and family planning. Leon sat quietly in his chair and sucked to him as much as he could.

Pleasant as the talk might be, there could be hidden meanings and things drawn from out between the lines from such conversations. Most likely though, both Dante and Salvatore played dumb to keep Leon at a safe distance until they were comfortable with him. Annoying, Leon thought. He was really like a kid, and Dante along with Salvatore didn't want to talk about 'adult stuff' in front of him. Patience was the better virtue here.

Salvatore, Dante and Leon was standing on the terrace viewing the sunset, Maria with escort came back home. Salvatore was an old man, so Maria wasn't into him for the looks. Money was the thing that had sex appeal in Leone's mansion, not much else. Seen from the other perspective, Mr Leone had taken Maria in solely based on her looks. The phrase 'too hot to handle' came to Leon's mind as she stepped out of the limousine. While Dante gave her a glance, it was more out of curiosity than attraction.

Shallow as it was, it was love, sort of. Maria was all over Salvatore once she joined them, grateful that she was able to buy yet another half dozen designer do-dads that she strictly speaking didn't need. «Maria honey, these two men will be in charge of your security tonight. They are officer Kennedy from R.P.D. and Dante, gun-for-hire.» Salvatore introduced them. Leon gave her a polite nod and smile while Dante made a vague face of slight interest and something that sounded like a grunt.

A call from Joey, Salvatore's son, brought the pleasantries to an end. Something had gone down and Salvatore had to go down to the Shoreside Vale police station along with his lawyers to get his son. Dante excused himself, saying he'd like to take a look around the house to inspect the safety before the night kicked in, dragging Leon with him. «We could move her to another location to throw off the attacker.» Leon suggested as they walked around the huge house. «No point, they'll find her anyway.» Dante grumbled.

One of the guards approached them and informed Dante that his luggage had arrived. «Didn't know you were planning on camping.» Leon commented dryly. «They're just a few things.» Dante said defensively. Somehow I don't think that covers toothbrush and a change of clothes, Leon thought to himself.

As Leon watched Dante looking around, high and low for... whatever he was looking for, he noticed that Dante was very serious and seemed to do a thorough job. «Where's do you think the safest place to put the lady is?» Leon asked after another 5 minutes of walking around. «There is none.» Dante shot back, looking behind some tall curtains that went from the ceiling to the roof. That didn't make much sense, Leon mused. More over, how could Dante be so sure?

«I was thinking the basement perhaps or some room that can only be reached through some sort of bottleneck.» Leon started. Dante stopped for a moment and looked at him. Leon felt uncomfortable, since Dante's look indicated that he'd just said something stupid. Motioning with his hand to make Leon follow him, Dante rounded another corner and opened a double door.

Looking inside, Leon was shocked. It was the remains of a battlefield. 6 or 8 guards were dead on the floor, gun holes in the walls, slash marks from cutting weapons and even some of their weapons were cut in half. «No signs of breaking entry. They just came through the freaking floor. Where's safe?» Dante asked Leon. Leon on the other hand was to stunned to answer. In fact he had a hundred questions himself.

Why wasn't the police told about this? How could something like this happen and not a soul on the outside knew about it? Just what in the world would they do to clean up this mess and yet keep the public ignorant about it? What would they tell the families of the dead guards? As the questions spun around Leon's head like a wild roller-coaster ride, Dante quietly closed the door and continued his inspection.

After another half hour, Dante was satisfied and went to the kitchen to get a bite to eat. Leon joined him, though he didn't have much apatite after what he'd seen. «Here's the plan. They'll come for Maria during nightfall. When that happens, you take her and run like hell. Me and the thugs will deal with the fuckers, got it?» Dante said, poking around in his pasta with bacon.

Leon tried to pay attention, but found it hard. After a moment or two it sunk in and he wondered. Why would he take the woman and run? When asking Dante this, he simply replied: «You're the good guy, you're the one that will be on the front page on tomorrow's newspapers. Once the girl is safe, you can come back if you can. No shame in running though, not on your first.»

Dante really was an ass, Leon thought to himself. As if this would be his first. Leon might be fresh, but he'd been around a while and he was doing damn good at the academy thank you very much. When the time came, Leon would show Dante that he was a force he could count on. Their conversation dropped like a rock at sea after that, both men lost in their separate thoughts.

Night came and Maria decided to go to bed. Since the master bedroom was totally useless with dead bodies and all, she'd moved to one of the guest rooms. Wearing seductive lingerie that left little over to the imagination, Maria refused to go to sleep until she was sure that Dante was still around. The guards told her he was just down in the garage getting his luggage. «So he'll sleep here tonight?!» She asked with hopeful sparkles in her eyes.

The guards didn't have much of a chance to respond as Dante arrived just then, guns strapped to his thighs and carrying a guitar bag over his shoulder. «Are you going to play me a song, handsome?» Maria winked at him. Dante smiled a bone chilling smile as he said: «Yeah, hopefully I get the chance to play one of my all time favorites; 'Die, Die, Die My Darling'. Now get some sleep... sweetheart.» What a jerk, Leon thought. As if she'd be able to sleep one second after you put on that kind of act.

One hour crawled by, then another. The large house was silent and aside from the changing turns and patrolling guards, there was nothing happening in the mansion. Leon sat in a chair in Maria's bedroom, fighting his own sleepiness with mixed result. His head tended to sink and sway around as he struggled to keep awake. Dante sat in a two-seater sofa near a large wardrobe, his back straight, legs wide apart, the guitar bag between his legs and resting his hands and chin at the top of the guitar bag.

Either he's asleep or he's used to this kind of thing, the waiting, Leon mused to himself. Patient like a natural killer, Dante looked slightly to the right, then to the left, just faintly turning his head before falling still again. Into the 3rd hour, Leon dipped off into sleep. For how long, he could not tell. A minute or an hour? What difference did it make? When he did wake up, it was with a bang.

The attackers were here and one of them had fired off a sawed-off double barreled shotgun at Maria's bed. Dante had dived in and rolled himself and Maria out of the bed. Leon was about to reach for his gun when Dante, whom was lying on the floor with a terrified Maria on top, pushed her towards Leon. «Run Leon, take the bitch and run!» He barked like a mad guard dog. Salvatore's guards came crashing in and opened fire. Their pump action shotguns spewed out smoke, lead and ear-shattering noise in quick succession.

Adrenaline shot through Leon's body and he took Maria and ran. Out of the room, down the hallway, left, another left and down the stairs. Along the way more guards ran past them, towards the fight in the bedroom, weapons at ready. A couple of them stopped and followed Leon down to the garage. Maria was shoved into the backseat, a guard took the drivers seat and Leon in the front passenger seat.

The car engine roared to life and in a smoke of burned rubber they left the garage in a speed far too high for comfort. Gravel spat like machine gun fire under the tires as the car dashed away from the mansion. They were just a few meters from the mansion gate when two crescent-shaped blades cut through the front window. The leftmost blade dug itself into the driver's face, making a bloody mess, while the other one didn't do much save cracking up the front window making it impossible to see outside.

Maria screamed at the top of her lungs as blood sprayed the interior of the front seats, while Leon fumbled for the handbrake while pulling out his gun. He emptied the gun through the front window and up through the roof before he yanked up the handbrake. The car screamed to a halt and it sounded as if something dropped from atop of the car to the ground in front of it. «Maria, come on. We can't stay here.» Leon panted, letting the empty clip slide out of his gun.

After reloading, Leon stepped out of the car and made sure that the figure on the ground was dead. Looking back, Leon saw Salvatore's guards retreating from the mansion. Earlier on the day they all looked though as nails behind their shades, but now they were terrified, several of them openly crying like little children fleeing from a monster. «El diablo, el diablo!» Some of them screamed like mad while running for their dear lives.

Leon wasn't able to question any one of them as they simply ran away, two of them had enough composure to bring with them the whimpering Maria. A loud boom sounded, the ground trembled with the shockwave and Leon spun around, gun ready. The lights in the mansion went dead. Considering his options, Leon decided to head into the mansion, whispering to himself that devils aren't real and that it was just a figure of speech, nothing more.

After securing a flashlight from the garage, Leon headed deeper into the dark mansion. Proceeding carefully, gun in one hand, flashlight in the other and both focused at the same point, Leon took it slowly. A faint wooden twirling sound was heard every now and then, quickly followed by a booming shotgun blast. Judging by the sounds, the fighting was still a bit off, concentrated around the guest room.

As Leon backtracked to the guest room, signs of combat became clearer. It was much like the master bedroom had been like, just that it had poured into the hallways like water. Dead guards at the floor, gun shot holes on the walls, broken windows, torn curtains and daggers dug deep into the walls and some of the guards. Daggers?

In the nick of time Leon manage to spot something, a humanoid figure at the edge of his sight. Spinning around to his right, narrowly dodging a pair of metallic daggers that hurled towards his chest, Leon fired three quick rounds before landing on the blood smeared floor, left shoulder first. Not a sound followed. Dead? Leon's mind was racing, his breath short, rapid pants and face was boiling over with cold sweat.

More gun fire from deeper into the mansion. Sounded smaller than shotguns, too big for regular handguns. Dante's custom made cannons? How the hell could he fire them in such rapid succession, even if he had two of them? Sounded more like he had machine guns than pistols the way he was pissing out lead.

Crawling to his feet, Leon sat down and dared to take a pick peek around the corner. Dead bodies, nothing more, but was there one more than earlier? He couldn't tell, but decided to chance it. Pressing on, Leon came over more disturbing sights of Salvatore's guards. Cruel didn't really cover what fate these men were granted by whomever was in charge of casting judgment on this night. Several of them laid face down, their necks slashed and gashed open with big gaping wounds.

Other men were hung like life size marionettes with some odd strings, their bodies also bore testament of the cruel blades that had preyed on them, while others had been shot with a shotgun blast at point blank range. A metallic ring sliced through the air ahead of Leon and he froze stiff. In front? Nothing there but darkness and shadow. Then, from behind?! Leon spun around and almost pulled the trigger as he came around, but again there was nothing.

From a room to his back left it came, another one of those damned crescent-shaped blades that curved around from inside the doorway. By luck or fate, Leon managed to dodge it by sliding backwards on his heels and landing flat on his back. His shoulders slammed against the wooden floor in sync with the blade digging its curved end into the wall. The landing broke his flashlight. Gritting his teeth, Leon cursed.

Rolling around on his stomach, Leon had no chance to get on his feet as his attacker came out from the room to claim his price. Five rounds flat in the chest, the shadowy silhouette dropped lifeless to the floor with a thud. Ten more rounds, Leon reminded himself. He needed to keep a count on how many bullets he had left so he could avoid being caught off guard. Rising to his feet, Leon disregarded caution over speed.

Getting a firm grip on his gun with both hands, he lowered it down to his pelvis and pressed forward with a light jog. Clashing metal and breaking furniture grew louder as well did the density of the dead bodies. Salvatore's guards or Maria's attackers? Leon couldn't tell the difference anymore, they were all shadows on the floor by now.

Finally, Leon arrived at the guest room. Nothing here, it was deserted and totally beaten to pulp. One of the windows were broken, could Dante be outside? Maybe at some point, but he was back into the house by now. Going yet back again, Leon tried to locate Dante. As he followed the sounds of fighting, Leon could hear he was getting closer.

In the end it was just a wall between him and Dante's fight. Looking for a door, Leon heard Dante charge his enemy head on inside. It ended with a loud boom against the wall that separated Leon from the fight, and the top half of Dante's sword sticking through it. Leon had seen a lot this night, but that was one of the more memorable. It got better, as Dante was far from finished. He withdrew is sword swiftly and followed with a series of rapid stabs.

So fierce and rapid where the stabbing that the wall broke and Dante's dead enemy came crashing down with it. Out from the dust, Leon could spot Dante's tall, though hunched down frame sticking out, looking for the next kill. He couldn't see Dante's face due to the darkness and dust, but Leon was certain it was him.

Dante did spot Leon as well, though he apparently mistook Leon for someone else as he dashed forward with demonic speed and used the broad side of his sword to push Leon down the hallway and up against the wall. «Dante, calm the hell down! It's me! Leon!» Leon managed to gasp out, as he had problems breathing due to Dante's pressure. A moment of hesitation, then the pressure eased down.

Leaning over, resting his hands on his knees, Leon coughed as he tried to regain composure. «I... I think we got all of them. Whomever is left must be running for the hills after the hell you gave them.» Leon said between breaths. Dante on the other hand said nothing, he just stood there as if carved out of stone. Remembering the vision of Dante killing McCoy and his family, this pose wasn't all that different from when he stood there in their house.

Their moment of silence didn't last long though, sirens could be heard in the distance and growing closer. «I can't believe this! Just like in the fucking movies!» Leon laughed despite of himself. Dante's gloomy figure shifted his standing before taking large, calm and confident steps down the hallway. «Deal with it.» He grunted over his shoulder, leaving no room for objections.

Fire and police department were all over the place. Leon, as a police officer on the scene greeted the cavalry and was taken care of by firefighters. Dante, he had withdrawn from the scene like a ghost. One of the S.W.A.T members caught a glimpse of his back with the iconic sword on sheathed across his back, but dared not stop him, just adding another tale to the urban myth.

True to Dante's word, Leon was the hero of the day. Being exhausted from the events of the night, Leon was put into the hospital for rest and check-up. Salvatore along with his lawyers did all the talking in Leon's absence. Official story was that a large criminal band had gone after Maria due to her being victim of trafficking and holding key information to their operations. Salvatore had taken the young lady out of kindness and gone straight to officer Kennedy of the R.P.D. the moment he learned of the band's attempt to take her out.

Together with the private security forces of Salvatore, Leon had lead a deadly battle against organized crime. A small nudge or seven from Donald Love, the multimedia guru of Raccoon City, and the media served the story to the public. Playing heavy on the red-white-and-blue that is close to every American's heart, the public loved it and took it into their hearts, no questions asked.

Back at Devil May Cry, Dante was cleaning his guns after a busy night when Trish decided to drop by. «So, how did it go?» She asked him as she helped herself with a game of pool. «Not bad, not bad at all.» Dante responded, nodding a little to himself. Devil knew how she did it, but Trish's tip was right on the dollar.

Those things that came after Maria, they were low-class evil spirits that borrow the bodies of puppets in order to exist in a physical state. Dante still remembered Trish's advice on the matter; _«Since they exist as physical entities, they can be destroyed by physical means. Use guns, swords and other ways to scatter them to oblivion!» _Only thing that bugged Dante was why they came after Maria of all people.


	12. Shadow

**Shadow**

Several weeks had past since the episode on Salvatore's mansion and the media turned their attention elsewhere. Leon wasn't very happy about the final outcome. Members from the S.W.A.T team that had gone over the building had spotted glimpses of Dante and that had added fuel to the gossip central at the R.P.D in Portland. Rumor had it that Leon was in league with Dante, just like McCoy had been before. The divide between Leon and the rest of the department was unavoidable.

The only one that didn't put distance between Leon was Dr Wong down at forensics. That was a poor comfort, as Dr Wong was distant from just about everyone. Leon had tried to get in touch with Dante after his hospitalization was done, but that was easier said than done. Dante it seemed was very busy these days. Whatever he was doing, it appeared that he was at it pretty much 24/7. Either that or Leon's timing sucked.

Dr Wong had no idea either and she didn't seem to be too keen on looking for Dante either. She admitted that it was rare for Dante to be gone like this for such a long time period, but it wasn't unheard of. Assuring Leon that there was no way for Dante to go down quietly, she guessed that he was doing something that he didn't want them to get involved with.

Chief Irons came back from his trip out of town and was also very busy, not giving a reply on Leon's approaches. He had practically given up, when chief Irons' secretary gave a call and asked Leon to come by after lunch. Shortly after lunch was over, Leon dropped by and was sent in right away without any delay. The moment the door closed behind him, Leon remembered how gloomy the chief's office looked with all the dead animals mounted on the walls.

Taking a seat across the desk, Leon patiently waited for the chief to finish his phone call. «So, Kennedy.» Chief Irons said, putting the phone away. «You had quite the adventure while I was away, eh?» He carried on, smiling to Leon. As always, whatever the chief did had the opposite effect on Leon. That smile really gave Leon the creeps.

Not sure how to reply, Leon gave a faint and stiff smile back. «I'll cut to the point. You made a wonderful job out there Kennedy, you should be proud. I have a special assignment in mind for you.» Irons said, his grin getting bigger. «I'd like you to pick up where McCoy left off.» Leon was stunned. What was with the change of tone? He had the impression that the chief didn't want to waste anymore men on Dante, due to how McCoy ended up.

Looking for the right words, Leon just sitting in his chair more or less dumbstruck. «Rest assured, it's only for a while. This Dante character, he's attracted attention on a federal level. The... higher-ups want to keep a closer eye on him. You'll be those eyes until the special team arrives.» Chief Irons elaborated. This was bad news. Leon doubted that even God knew what kind of shit would hit the fan if the federal government came running after Dante.

Shifting a little in his seat, Leon dared himself a question. «What kind of special team?» Chief Irons brushed the question aside as nothing big. He mentioned that it was a ton of paperwork that needed to be sorted out, it involved the mayor as well as the other police districts. One could not thread lightly when it was tax-payer money on the line, apparently. The team would however arrive as soon as possible and they'd take over Leon's special assignment once they did.

Until that time came however, Irons was very insistent that Leon would stick with Dante. He was after all, the only one of the Portland cops that wasn't nervous or flat out terrified of Dante. Leon was, as the chief put it, very level headed and down to earth. That went smooth, far too smooth for comfort, Leon thought to himself as he walked back to his office desk. The hell was going on around here?

When dawn was only a few hours away, Dante pulled his bike into the garage next to Devil May Cry. On the backseat Trish sat, dozing in and out of sleep. «Stop drooling on my coat and get of my bike. We're home.» He said, shaking Trish's left arm that held around his stomach. Stretching in her seat, Trish got of and walked a bit around to wake up a little.

Dante looked and smelled like a pile of trash. He and Trish had been out in the woods surrounding Raccoon City, killing just about anything they came over, devil or regular wild life. The whole point was to grant Dante more finesse in his fighting. Only reason why Dante had agreed was because he had given it a serious try when he fought against those things that came after Maria in Salvatore's mansion.

Much to his surprise, it worked very well. Things flowed much better when he followed the few pointers Trish had given him. When she had came by with the suggestion of a field trip until things cooled of in town, Dante agreed. While he'd been busy to follow Trish's instructions, Dante had failed to learn anything new about Trish herself. She was just like before, an enigma. «I'm going to hit the shower.» He told Trish as he headed over to the back of his office.

Trish didn't reply, she just gave a faint smile and waited until Dante was out of sight and she could hear the shower running. With that she withdrew quietly out the front door. While in the shower, Dante turned on a small radio and let it play in the background. Normally he'd just listen for the music, but now he was keen on knowing if things had cooled off.

Judging by the headlines of the radio news, it seemed that things had settled down. Perfect Dante thought and got dressed. After putting the dirty clothes in the washing machine, Dante looked at the button panel for a moment and then remembered that he never actually bothered to learn how to use this heap of junk. Oh well, he could drop the clothes to the laundry in china-town later.

Remembering that he still had some business to take care of, Dante headed down to his basement to give the God of Time statue another visit. After cleaning house at Salvatore's, Dante had walked up to the statue just for kicks. Who would have guessed that the damn thing was still working? The God had granted Dante some vague insight into the art of combat that the devils of old used.

While it wasn't anything earth shattering new, Dante did notice a difference and that was enough to encourage him to come around for more. The golden sand in the hourglass that the statue held glowed to life and Dante's mind merged with that of the God. After a while the God had taken what Dante had to offer and traded it off with more insight into the past. Dante couldn't help but wonder if this thing could show more recent things, such as that morning that changed it all.

Disregarding the idea, Dante headed up to the ground floor for some food. Fumbling around in his fridge, Dante figured that he better get a status on what was going on with Leon. Best approach would be to give Ada a visit. He could catch her before work, or more like he better. Taking his latest adventure into consideration, Dante reckoned that the cops would be far too nervous to have him stomping around in the station.

After getting something to eat, Dante killed some time listening to music and sharpening his sword. Hearing that the 06:00 news were on the radio, Dante decided it was time to give Ada a home visit, maybe even steal a toast or something for breakfast. Getting on his bike, he took off and headed over to Ada's apartment.

Dressed rather casually with dark shoes, jeans, t-shirt, green leather jacket and a scarf of sort loosely tied around his neck, Dante headed up to the main entrance. Ada lived all the way down in Cedar Grove. A smaller gang of criminals calling themselves South Side Hoods hang around this area. They were never hard to spot, one could tell 5 miles away because of their style; gold chains, rings and teeth, branded streetwear, hooded sweatshirts and last but not least, tons of platinum.

Ringing the doorbell with Ada's name on it, Dante waited for a reply. «Who is it?» Ada's voice grumbled sleepy through the speaker. «It's me sugar, your all time favorite nightmare, open the door.» Dante answered. Ada mumbled something about it being too damn earlier for this, but opened the door nonetheless.

Her apartment was small and simple. Since she lived alone it was fine in terms of size, but two could easily be a crowd in the long run. Dante waited in the hallway while Ada was brushing her teeth. «How's Leon holding up?» Dante asked. «He's been labeled by the other officers, much like McCoy was. The cat is out of the box.» Ada replied. Well, that's just one cat. There's more where that came from, Dante thought to himself.

Things seemed to have calmed down at the station as well, which fitted Dante fine. «Anything interesting happened while I was gone?» He asked Ada. «The city is still standing, so whatever did happened, we could handle.» Ada said, being indifferent as usual. Dante pretty much expected this, that Ada wouldn't ask questions. She seemed to regret being involved, but felt powerless to leave for whatever reason.

Dante knew he was a big part to blame for that, but as things stood now he had no other choice. It was unlikely that Ada would split, not after what happened to McCoy. Again, Dante was to blame. Would he ever set things straight if he got the chance? Who was he kidding? As if that chance would ever come. If it, however unlikely, did come crawling, it would do so over his dead body and not a moment earlier.

At any rate, Dante had learned what he wanted and decided to give Ada some space. If this God of Time routine of Trish worked and actually payed of, Dante might cut Ada free someday. Time would tell. Too bad the God of Time could only look backwards and not forwards. Now that would be a goldmine. Leaving, Dante walked down the hallway to the elevator.

The elevator arrived and the doors slided aside, then Dante found himself face to face with Trish. «The fuck you doing here? Don't tell me you're into stalking.» Dante blurted out. «Shut up dickhead, mind your tongue while you're talking to a lady.» Trish shot back, pouting. Walking past him, Trish carried on down the hallway. The hell? He's suppose to mind his tongue, while she could spit out whatever she wanted? Where's the logic in that?

Dante decided to get to the bottom of this and headed after Trish. «Oh, who's the stalker now, huh?» Trish shot over her shoulder as she took notice of Dante following her. «Stuff it and tell me what you're up to.» Dante demanded. «I'm not up to anything. If you must know, I live here.» Trish said, unlocking the door to an apartment.

Ha? Trish lived here, in this building, in a normal apartment just like some regular person? The fuck was this? Wasn't she some fancy-pansy servant of Trismagia? Dante thought she had some miniature universe that she slipped in and out of. «Awh shit, I'm overdue with the rent.» Trish complained to herself as she walked into her apartment. «Hold your horses there, are you telling me you've got to worry about food, rent, bills and all that other normal shit that most people fill their heads with?» Dante asked as he stood in the door.

Trish stopped browsing through her mail and looked up at him. «Well duh, what did you think?» She said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. «You even worry about diets and shit?» Dante asked, still flabbergasted over the turn of events. At that question Trish's eyes narrowed dangerously and she stomped up to Dante, pushed him out in the hallway and slammed the door flat in his face. «I'll take that as a yes.» He half shouted into the door.

Six dozen things swirled around in Dante's head when he was riding the elevator down. Of all the freaky things he had learned over the years, that one ranked pretty damn high. Straight into the top 5, no contest. Trish was working. Working? Stop for one damn minute! What kind of work was Trish doing?! The last thing Dante needed was competition. How much did Trismagia pay by the hour anyway? A bottle of souls twice a month?

The rest of the day Dante spent on trivial things; getting his clothes washed at the laundry, killing some time at a game arcade shop, driving aimlessly around on the streets, some pointless window-shopping for a cell-phone, stocking up on bullet supplies and buying some new music before heading back home. Time was in for some maintenance on his guns as Dante had given them a busy time when he was out on that trip with Trish.

That Trish... who'd thought she was down to earth like that? Not Dante, that was for sure. He thought about dropping by Leon, but decided against it. Rather Dante would enjoy the rest of the night on Sexclub7. Luigi might give him some V.I.P treatment considering what he'd done for Salvatore. With a happy grin from ear to ear, Dante hummed a merry tune as he walked over to the club.

Sexclub7 was busy that night. A good crowd was hanging out, music was top notch and pumped out from the speaker system like nobody's business. The girls were as usual a true feast for the eyes and their dancing only made it better. Dante headed for the bar and ordered a simple non-alcoholic drink as usual. Life is damn good at times, he thought to himself, taking sips of his drink. It didn't take long before Luigi came by to express his thanks. That guy was shining like he was a piece of gold from Fort Knox.

Just as Dante suspected, Luigi made some arrangements for something special for Dante only. The poor guy that had made reservations for the V.I.P room soon found himself down on the ground floor along with the common customer. Dante wasn't really objecting to the treatment Luigi gave him, he was just going with the flow. He still hadn't changed to his regular dark red and black leather clothing, but he'd ditched the leather jacket and scarf when he came to the V.I.P room.

Wondering if Luigi had gotten any new girls in the stable since his last visit, Dante was looking forward to whomever would accompany him for the next few hours. Bunny girls seemed to be in season again and it was one of Dante's favorite outfits. Maybe it was because of all those Japanese DVD's that Asuka had given to him since he was 13 years old. He never understood a word said, then again you don't really watch that kind of movies for the moving dialog.

Come to think of it, why in the world did she stick that kind of stuff to him? They were both kids back then. Five years later she walked into his newly made office and stripped down to high heels only. Her English wasn't all that sharp back then, and her nervous stuttering didn't really make the message come across. Dante remembered her baffled expression as he put his coat around her shoulders, gave her a smile and took her home.

The guards at the casino had given him some strong glares, but he wasn't worried. First of he could kick their asses with one hand tied behind his back, standing knee-deep in cement and wearing a blindfold. Secondly, he had done nothing wrong as far as he knew. Guess it was that last part that came through, since the guards just took their young master inside without a word. Dante was taken out of his drifting memories as he heard the door opening.

In the doorway stood Trish, complete with black bunny ears on her head, black bunny suit that hugged her every curve all to damn well, fishnet stockings that left little to the imagination and black high heels. If Dante had been a little older, he'd be having a heart attack by now. Instead he settled with standing like a idiot, gaping at her.

A long moment of awkward silence slided by. «What the hell...?» Dante managed to get out at last. «What? It's an honest living.» Trish said defensively. «THE HELL IT IS!» Dante barked back. There was just something terrible wrong with the image he was seeing before him. It was really messing with his head, as if it hadn't been messed with enough already today. He went to this place to avoid even more messing with his head and this was what he got?

«Anyways, get some goddamn clothes on.» He told Trish. «Use your eyes, I am dressed thank you very much.» Trish shot back. That was not what he meant, and Dante was dead certain that Trish knew that. Why the hell was she acting up!? He grabbed the table-cloth on the table and put it around Trish. «What, was it hurting your eyes?» She asked him as she pulled it tighter around her shoulders. In more ways you can imagine, Dante thought but said nothing. Right now he had enough trying to keep himself from going through the roof.

Worst part was that it kind of made sense. Trish was a looker, no protest there. Easiest way for a girl to get some cash on her hands was this kind of thing. Dante figured that from a certain perspective there was nothing wrong going on. It was legal and all that, but just what did Luigi get her to do for her dollars? Trish would most likely not talk, that was just Dante's hunch. He figured he could reason with Luigi later on, making sure Trish worked as a waitress only or something along those lines.

Trish looked at Dante, actually smiling and giggling. Did she find it cute that he was all flabbergasted? Well, it was rare for him to act like this. Shit, when he thought about it, Trish got him by the balls now. If shits like Luigi learned that Dante had a 'special someone', you could bet your dying breath that he'd use it whenever he could. «Trish, this never happened, are we clear on that?» He told her seriously.

Grinning cleverly, Trish nodded understandingly. That was a relief. «It was a stroke of luck that we met. I was planning on dropping by after work, but I guess we can take this now.» Trish said, changing the subject. If she'd ask for a date, or hell forbid, Dante's hand in marriage, there was no telling what he'd do next. «There's a devil in the city that I've been tracking since before our little trip.» She carried on, taking a seat in the sofa.

Thankfully it was a normal topic they would be talking about. Dante let out a sigh of relief before also taking a seat. «It's am evil spirit that takes form from its own shadows.» Trish started and carried on explaining about the devil. Dante listened in with interest and was able to get back into the world which he knew and was comfortable with.

They chatted for half an hour more before splitting up. On his way out, Dante talked with Luigi. «That girl you sent up to me, what does she do around here?» He asked Luigi. Being a little taken aback by the strange question, Luigi decided to answer frankly. «She came in here looking for job. She's got what it takes, so I took her in, no audition or nothing.» Luigi told Dante. Although he didn't really know what Luigi put in the word audition, Dante was relieved that as far as he could tell Trish landed the job without problems.

Asking some more around Trish, Dante put up an act that he was most impressed, not to mention pleased and interested in getting to know the girl better. That put Luigi on the right track. Dante was known to have favorites and it was always good news to know that Luigi had hit the spot. This time around it sounded like he'd hit a home run. Luigi said that Trish was one of the look-but-don't-touch girls he had.

Main reason for this was that once someone tired to lay a dirty finger on her, Trish responded with a fierce temper. That girl would never ever need a bodyguard, as she was dynamite in more ways that one. Feeling a little better over the situation, Dante called it the night and headed home to prepare for the hunt that was right around the corner.

After taking some time suiting up for a busy night roaming the city for Trish's little devil, Dante mounted his bike and took off. Nighttime might not be the best time to hunt this damn thing as it was after all a shadow. How do you find a shadow in the middle of the night? You don't really, it finds you if it feels like it. This was the part that Dante hated, knowing something was out there, but unable to find it.

He checked all the clues and leads Trish had given him, but came up empty handed. By chance he spotted Ada coming out from Marco's Bistro. As usual she wasn't thrilled to see Dante, but it couldn't be helped. «Leon's asking for you on the station you know.» Ada told him. One thing at the time, Dante told himself. «Need a ride home?» Dante asked.

Ada looked a little surprised. That was a first she thought to herself, but declined his offer. «I'll crash at a college friend of mine.» She told Dante. As if arriving right on cue, Ada's school friend stepped up. «Oh my god, who's the stud Ada?» She giggled. Ada rolled with her eyes. Too much wine Dante figured. Following the two ladies to the El-train station, Dante figured he'd might as well take this one last round before calling it the night and get some shuteye.

Leaning on Ada, the two women staggered up the stairs to the train station. «I mean, is that sword just a compensation for something else?» Ada's friend laughed, hiking for every third word she spoke. Dante let it slide for a change, it was the wine that was talking and Ada would most likely chew her out once they were on their own. For now he just enjoyed the view up their skirts as they walked up the stairway.

The el-train arrived right on time and Ada along with her friend boarded after buying tickets. Dante was about to head back down to his bike when he noticed that the windows in the back most car was splattered with blood. It looked almost like someone had stabbed some thick pikes through the car, from the inside and taking passengers along with it. In the last moment, Dante turned on his heel and snuck aboard the train.

Moving forward with a dull speed, the train soon reached its top speed and kept a steady pace. Dante drew his sword and walked towards the rear car. This could be ugly, the car wagons were a little to small for an all out fight with sword. Even so Dante felt confident with his abilities, especially after taking lessons from the God of Time. This sucker would never knew what hit him.

Seeing a dark black figure, large as a big cat like a tiger or lion, Dante dismissed it as a dumb devil with little more than animal cunning for brains. All too easy, Dante thought to himself as he readied himself for the strike. The first stab missed as the cat shot out like a dart through the window. «What the...?! Running away already?!» Dante shouted after it.

From the ceiling and surrounding walls they came, dark, sharp and sinister spikes cutting in like spears. «Shit, shit, shit!» Dante spat as he hit the floor and blocked some of the spears with his sword. Goddamn shape shifter, he thought to himself. Coming back in, the cat demon attacked Dante in a more traditional manner as if it was really a lion. The two struggled, pushing back and forth, occasionally banging one another into seats and walls, neither backing down.

Finally there was enough distance between them to allow Dante to use his sword. Hammering away like mad, it was like trying to cut through stone. Whatever Dante did, the sword would just spit out sparks where it hit and bounce back. The cat demon stepped a little back and dug its head through the floor.

Before he knew what was going on, spikes came shooting up from the floor, forcing him to fall backwards. Almost at the end of the train, Dante had a lot of ground to cover over a floor that looked like swiss-cheese. Satisfied with its work, the demon shifted back to cat form and ran forward to the other wagons. Not hesitating, Dante gave chase.

Ada caught sight of the devil a fraction of a second before she was to be stabbed by one of its spikes. Her drunk friend however wasn't that fortunate, a spike cut clean through the back of her seat and carried on through her chest. Letting out a gasping sigh that ended with gurgling in her own blood, Ada's friend jerked around in cramps before falling lifeless back to her seat with the spike still in her chest.

Dante tried again with slamming his sword into the devil, but the result was still the same. The little prick didn't even notice he was taking hits and Dante was practically giving it all he got. Sword in his right, Dante drew one of his guns and tried a second approach; guns and bullets. In a spray of raw caliber pistol bullets Dante emptied his clip.

That did bring about a response, Dante's favorite. The devil shrieked in pain and jerked away. «Guess you're 'old-school', so instead of getting medieval on your spiky ass, I'll pump that ugly face full of modern bullets.» Dante grinned, reloading his gun. Seeing its chance, the cat demon shifted its head and shoulders into a large spike and slammed it against Dante's side, smashing him out through one of the windows.

In the nick of time Dante managed to catch one of the edges and swing himself up on the trains roof. The devil came crashing through the roof, screaming with fury and wasted no time unleashing a series of swift stabs at Dante. Through a series of jumps and dodges, Dante avoided them and only got scratches. His guns roared angrily over the demon's screams of pain and the steady clatter of the train riding over the tracks that laid before it.

When Dante was running dangerously low on bullets, the cat devil seemed to tremble as if it had problems holding its shape. Its form began to melt away and soon a glowing core like ball revealed itself little by little. Sticking his head through the hole the devil made when pursuing Dante to the roof, Dante spotted his sword on the floor. «Ada! Sword!» He shouted.

Ada somehow understood what Dante wanted and did her best to had it over as fast as she could. The sword was large and by no means light. Dante was probably the only one around that could handle that thing with such ease. Ada had to use both hands to just drag it over the floor. She managed to get it standing, but couldn't for the life of her lift it as much as an inch off the floor.

Dante leaned down as much as he could and managed to get his fingers around the tip of the hilt. It wasn't much, but it was enough for him to get it up. By now the shadowy exterior of the devil was about to restore itself. «The hell if you do!» Dante shouted, unleashing his own devil and slashed away at the core with all his might. In the end the core shattered and the devil appeared to die.

Resting his sword on his shoulder, Dante smiled with a sadistic satisfaction. He turned and looked down through the hole at Ada, who walked over to her dead friend and closed her wide open eyes. Dante's work was done here. He'd give the details to Trish tomorrow and leave the aftermath to Ada. Spreading his wings, Dante let the wing take hold and lift him up to the night sky. He might have to wait a while for Ada to calm down before he visited the police station again, but right now he didn't give a damn. Dante never did when he was like this, a devil high on violence and killing.


	13. When the sound of a coward fall silent

**When the sound of a coward fall silent**

Another day at the office. Ada stood bent over yet another pale and cold corpse, her fingers pushing torn flesh aside as she looked deeper into the wound with a flashlight mounted on her head. No difference from the others, is what she'd like to tell herself. Truth was, this was everything but the same as the others.

Main difference laid in the fact that this was someone Ada knew, from back in her college days. The two had spent the evening on the town, catching up with times long since gone. After a pleasant time, they've headed back home. Along the ride, Ada's friend died. Nothing really special peer see mind you, it's what people eventually do – die that is.

Even so, it felt odd, looking into the guts of a friend. Was she sad? Ada couldn't tell, she'd grown emotionally numb a long time ago. Come to think of it, it was how she was wired up right from birth. Never really truly merry or having any cheerfulness to spare. By all means there was hardly any reason to complain. After all, it was this lack of emotion that made Ada able to do her job as well as she did.

There were times though, when Ada did envy those who could cry and laugh until their faces turned bright red from ear to ear. Sighing to herself, Ada shook her random thoughts away and started over with the job, giving it new focus. Once she was done with this one, there were 8 others waiting in line. Wondering why she'd picked her friend first, she eventually agreed with herself that it was small service on her part. For old time's sake.

At another part of town, Leon was examining what was left of the el-train. Initially wondering why he was sent over to this site, as it was reported as an assault, upon arrival he understood why. This reeked of Dante from miles away. He had no idea what to do with this, where to start for example? With the blood on the floor, walls and occasionally on the ceiling? Or perhaps with the numerous bullet holes? How about the slash and cuts all over the walls? There was even a hole in the ceiling in one of the wagons.

Taking into consideration what he had learned about crime scenes at the academy, this one didn't make any sense. Well, Leon could dismiss a lot this to Dante's credit, but there were elements that hinted about Dante's guarding devil being around. Ada was the only survivor of this incident, though Leon was uncertain if she'd even talk about anything at all.

After telling the C.S.I team to just carry on as usual and leave all their files and findings on his desk, Leon headed over to Dante's Devil May Cry shop in a faint hope for some details. «Hey, anyone home?» Leon asked into the store. Not a soul replied. That could be good and normally it should, but then again if Dante wasn't in, odds were high that he was out wrecking havoc somewhere, which of course was bad. Well whatever, back to the station Leon figured and left the shop.

The moment he sat down in the drivers seat he got a call on the police radio. They wanted him to come back A.S.A.P. Details where a bit sketchy, but that wasn't really a newsflash. He wanted to go back either way, so Leon didn't press the issue. The receptionist would have the details apparently.

Once back at the station, Leon walked up to the receptionist and asked what his call was about. «Oh yeah, about that.» The receptionist said. «Dr Wong complained about some bugs in the basement so she called in an exterminator.» Leon frowned. So? You've got bugs, you call the bug killer. Nothing shocking about that.

Leon wasn't sure why he was needed in all this. When asking about it, he was just asked to go down to Dr Wong and she'd fill him in. Heading down to the forensic lab in the basement, Leon could hear someone argue from the hallway. Stopping in the lower half of the stairway, he decided to listen in.

The voices were a bit muffled as they were behind closed doors, but form what Leon could tell it was Ada and someone else. «...death and carnage is in your shadow, wherever you go! You're no different than the things you kill!» The calm and indifferent Ada sounded quite different when she was raising her voice in anger. «There are limits! And if I were like them, you and I wouldn't have this argument 'cause you'd be DEAD!»

Back and forth it went, not really breaking new grounds or making any progress one way or another. In the end, whomever Ada was arguing with left with a loud banging of the doors and stomping in the hallway. The person didn't come up the stairway where Leon was standing, but whomever it was clearly left. There was a back door leading to the ground level at the other end of the hallway. From what Leon could tell, the person used that as his or her exit.

Judging it safe to come out, Leon headed down the last few steps and saw the room to the forensic lab wide open. Hesitating a little bit, wondering if it was such a good idea to walk in on Ada now, Leon figured he'd take his chances. Just start off slow he reminded himself. Inside the forensic room Ada stood in the back, on the far side of a bed with a dead person on it. A small tabled with medical tools at her left hand side.

It was clear to Leon that she hasn't noticed his arrival yet and that she was clearly still shaken by the argument she had a few moments ago. Resting her right hand on her face, her shoulders trembled at an uneven rhythm in sync with her sob filled breathing. Her lips were crudely bent downwards, distorted with uncomforted feelings.

Unsure of how to break the ice, Leon just went for the classic approach. «Uhm.. knock, knock.» He said a little loud. With a sharp sniff Ada raised her head and looked straight at Leon with tear wet eyes. It was only for a moment, but Leon was convinced that he'd seen beyond Ada's mask for the first time. She did however do a remarkable job at regaining her composure. If Leon had blinked, he'd missed it for sure.

Almost as if Ada wanted to say something, but held her tongue and said something else instead. «So you're here. I take it you've heard?» She said, returning to the dead body in front of her. Leon had so many things he wanted to say, but the right words didn't come his way. In the end he just tagged along even if he knew it was wrong. «Yeah, the receptionist asked me to come down here.»

Closing the door behind him, Leon carried on. «What's with the bugs and exterminator?» Ada's breathing was still a little shaken, but her voice was steady and indifferent in tone as always. «Big bugs Leon, big as dogs. I'm pretty sure you can guess what kind of exterminator I've called for, right?» The pieces fell together at that point. Not all the finer details, but at least it gave Leon a vague idea and a rough overview.

Ada had called for Dante regarding these dog sized bugs. When he arrived, the two got into the argument Leon had overheard. Chances are good that they talked about whatever went down on the el-train. «Is he here yet?» Leon asked, hoping his playing dumb would smooth things over. «Yeah, he just went outside to catch some fresh air.» Ada said, though it was painfully clear that she'd seen through Leon's little trick.

The atmosphere kept getting unpleasant and the overhanging silence didn't lighten the mood the slightest. Suddenly there was this distant sound that began to grow and fill the room. It was almost like a wet, sticky sound. Close to it was periods of short buzzing sounds, like a big fly was fooling around. Whatever it was, it was getting closer.

It gave Leon a bad feeling and Ada didn't look too good either. Quietly she reached for a scalpel on the desk. «They're back...» She whispered. What was back? The dog sized bugs? Where would they come from? Not the door. Even a dog sized bug can't move it unless it happens to know how to open one.

Carefully drawing out his gun, Leon used his left hand to motion Ada over to his place. Slowly she took one step at the time closer to Leon. Both of them looked up at the ceiling and along the walls, trying to follow the sound with their eyes. The buzzing sound had ground louder and it did actually sound bad enough like a dog had grown fly wings. As sick as it might sound, Leon was unfortunately not all too surprised if that happened to be the fact.

One of the doors to the corpse shelves slided slowly open. Ada didn't notice as her back was facing it, but Leon peeked over her shoulder and into the dark shelf. A pair of big red orbs looked back at him. «Ada, run for the door. Get Dante.» Leon whispered quietly while slowly bringing in gun about for an aim.

Hearing what Leon said and seeing where he was pointing the gun, Ada swallowed hard. With a quick glance into Ada's eyes and a sharp nod of his head, Leon signalized to Ada to go for it. A split second later Ada shot towards the door like a speeding bullet, slamming it hard behind her. Leon couldn't blame her, it was for the best to contain this thing, whatever it was. Besides, Dante was right around the corner... hopefully.

The creature in all its hideousness jumped out form its hiding place and hovered in the air. With a low and loud buzz, its fly wings swung about rapidly. The six legs were dangling lazily under the body and it tilted its head back and forth while eying Leon up and down. Not really interesting in starting conversations, Leon steadied his aim and pulled the trigger.

A splash of mustard colored goo shot out form the back of the abomination and clung to the wall behind like wet glue. Shaken around by the recoil and impact, the bug regained its balance and proceeded towards Leon. «Just drop dead already.» Leon said with clenched teeth and pulled the trigger again 3 times. After the third shot landed the bug dropped to the ground and twitched around on its death bed. A small minute later and it went still.

The door behind opened Leon and Dante stood smiling in the hallway. «Shooting live shots in a police station. You're either dumb or you're well connected.» He smiled at Leon. «Given the circumstances I dare say they'll let this one slide. Just what the heck is this thing?» Leon shot back. Dante walked in and looked down at the dead bug.

He tapped it lightly with the tip of his boot to make sure it was dead. «Beelzebub.» He said, as if that said it all. «Please, don't hug all the cozy details for yourself.» Leon said with sarcasm. Dante just ignored the comment and picked up the dead creature by one of its legs, turning it around.

«This evil spirit inhabits the body of a fly. Its hideousness is not too different from its appearance and movements.» Dante said as he dropped it in the trashcan with a wet thud. That was pretty much obvious Leon grumbled to himself in his head. «We've got a leak ladies. Spirits are coming about and take flies as their physical manifestation. These bodies gets twisted and distorted out of proportions due to the nature of said spirits.» Dante carried on.

Cut out trying to sound like Discovery channel, Leon frowned. «There's a sewage disposal plant just behind the station, that is the source of the bugs.» Ada shot in. Dante nodded slightly, then headed back out to the hallway with Leon close behind.

As they started to climb the stairway, Leon noticed that Ada followed them. «Doc...» Dante said over his shoulder. The trio stopped in their tracks. «You're coming with us?» Dante asked Ada. Leon glanced from Dante's back down to Ada at the bottom on the stairway. She just nodded.

Leon stomped down the stairway and locked himself into the underground weapon storage next to the forensic lab. Once inside, he walked up to a shelf and grabbed a Browning HP pistol along with a few spare clips. After locking up, Leon headed over to Ada and planted the gun in her hand. «This weapon doesn't have too much power, but can fire fairly quickly.» He told her. She wrapped her fingers slowly around the handle and rested her finger at the side of the trigger. She'll manage, Leon thought to himself. «There's a path leading from the precinct underground to the sewage disposal plant. We should be able to access the Beelzebub through there.» Dante grumbled and carried on climbing the stairway.

As the trio walked through the halls and corridors of the precinct, they caused quite a stir. Dante walked up front in his usual manner, paving way through whomever came up ahead with his confident stride and serious glare in his eyes. Either he was keeping up character or he was pissed because Ada was tagging along, invading his turf.

Leon and Ada followed close behind, flanking Dante on both sides. Not that many noticed, but Ada made no effort in hiding the gun Leon had given her. Had Dante not been here, Leon was confident that someone at some point would stopped Ada to ask questions about the gun. Speaking about questions, Leon wondered how chief Irons would handle this one. He suspected that chief Irons would give him a solid scolding when this was over. Assuming the precinct was still standing when that time came that is.

Just like Dante had pointed out, there was a passage underground. Standing ankle deep in dark and chilling cold water, the trio took a moment to let their eyes adjust to the darkness. «Ada, just stay close to me okay?» Leon whispered. He had no idea what kind of experience Ada had with firearms let alone a live firefight with dog sized insects and he knew that Dante could potentially loose it when the going got tough. He had done it to Leon, when they fought those Bloody Mari at Salvatore's mansion. Back then Leon had been lucky, but Ada might not. She was after all the source of Dante's annoyance, so there was no telling what might happen.

Dante drew out his dual hand guns and cracked his knees a little before quietly walking down the narrow hall. It was barely a door wide, with rough and uneven rocks for walls. A thick carpet of mud rested under the ankle deep water. At least Leon hoped it was mud and not something else. A belching sound came up front and the three stopped moving.

Only a few dull drops of water falling from the ceiling kept the silence away. One moment dragged its feet slowly into the next. Suddenly one of Dante's guns slashed through the silence with a shockingly loud bang. The walls kept the sound close, making it sting deep in their ears. Dante didn't seem to bother, but both Leon and Ada reached for their ears and closed their eyes with pain.

A soup like goo came pouring down from above and ran pulpy over Ada's hand. She looked up and saw a blue Beelzebub standing upside down on the ceiling. Glaring at it with rage, she raised her gun and pulled the trigger. Not a sound. Looking at her hand, Leon could see that there was something that was wiggling all over it. Like dozens of maggots.

Ada wiggled her hand around, trying to shake of the filthy maggots. «The blue Beelzebub's vomit appears to be maggots, but they are really a form of evil power that prevents you from firing when in contact with it.» Dante called out before he let loose another round, splatting the one that hung over Ada. «Try wash them off in the water.» Leon suggested while keeping a lookout for more bugs. «Or go home...» Dante snorted.

Somehow the trio managed to cut through the narrow hallway and carried on to the sewage disposal plant. Here they stumbled over some employees that were dead and partially eaten. It was not a pretty sight, considering that these things adapted the flies way of eating. A lot of flies can take in only liquid foods. They spit out saliva on solid foods to predigest it, and then suck it back inside. They also regurgitate partly digested matter and pass it again to the abdomen.

As a result, the bodies had entire limps seemingly melted away from the saliva, along with deep cuts into other parts of their bodies. While trying bravely to keep his lunch down in place, another Beelzebub came around the corner and zoomed past Dante heading straight for Leon.

Reacting on instinct, Leon raised his gun for an aim and pulled the trigger, sending two rapid shots at the abomination. While stunned, the Beelzebub didn't take any damage. Up ahead, Dante stood with one foot on top of a greenish Beelzebub to keep it pinned down and lazily fired multiple shots at point blank range. With a slippery wet splashing sound the green bug died.

Leon tried again to shoot down the flying Beelzebub and this time it went down without a hitch. «The large green Beelzebubs serve as an evil power supply for the blue airborne Beelzebubs. They seem to be stronger, since they have larger physical mass.» Dante explained, drawing out his sword. Grotesque feeding sounds could be heard just a few feet away. The trio got ready for another round.

They looked on and saw a green Beelzebub feasting on another poor soul that had fallen victim to their onslaught. «The green Beelzebubs feed on the dead and absorb their evil powers, and become even stronger. After feeding they become agile and more dangerous.» Dante warned Leon and Ada. With that said, Dante launched his sword into the bugs back, ending the short trip with a stony clang as the sword went straight through and hit the concrete floor under the bug.

Dante walked up to get his sword back with Leon and Ada close behind watching his back. From under one of the instrument tables yet another green Beelzebub came crawling. Taken by surprise, Ada turned away by reflex. Not wasting a second, the hideous creature jumped up and landed firmly on her shoulders. Folding its jointed legs around Ada's shoulders and ribs, she cried in pain and agony. Leon wasn't late to react, whipping up his gun and shot the bug in its side multiple times.

Stunned but not dead, the bug dropped to the floor, landing on its back. Dante wasted not time. He walked over and shot it once for each step he took and kept firing even after he ran out of bullets. An empty clip slided out of Ebony and clinkered with a cold metallic ring as it bounced off the floor. He turned around and looked at Ada, furious. «Never turn your back to the Beelzebub! It will grab you with its frontal limbs and try to break your back!» He snapped at her.

Motioning Leon to follow suit, Dante walked ahead, slapping a fresh clip into his gun with swift and angry movements. Leon glanced over at Ada, who was trembling. Again, Leon wanted to say something, anything, but the right words didn't come is way. In the end he gave her a faint smile and a nod.

Leon caught up with Dante and wanted to give him a little piece of his mind even if Dante wasn't in the mood for it. Before he got that far, Dante started talking. «It is most vulnerable after being hit, when it is on its back. Blast it with an attack from above, but watch out for the poison it spits out.» He told Leon while still pressing on. «Dante, hold on a sec.» Leon urged him.

Stopping, Dante merely waited for Leon to speak up again. «What about Ada? Can't you cut her some slack?» Leon spoke up. «Told her to go home, didn't I?» He grunted back, clearly displeased. Yeah, you did but even so, Leon thought and was about to say too. Looking back, Leon noticed that Ada had regained her calm again and was apparently ready to press on. She had spirit, though that might be all there is as well, Leon thought as his face grew worried.

Dante took a deep breath, then spoke up. «Doc... go home.» Ada responded by cocking her gun. «I hate taking sides, but I think Dante's got a valid point. This isn't your league Ada. I mean, I can follow...» Leon started, but Ada cut him short by firing her gun into the floor. She was trembling with all her might. Her shoulders so tense, they looked like they were inches away from cracking apart. Her hands ice white as they were locked around the gun as if her very life hung by its thread.

A trembling sigh came out from Ada's mouth. «I... I am... so...» she began, struggling with making rooms for her words between terrified breaths. «...sick and... tired of being a coward, a helpless fool. This is my first time... but everyone has to start somewhere, right?» A nervous smile and a weak laugh. More Beelzebubs came up ahead. Seemed like their little secret was out and the whole place had come to silence the intruders.

Dante holstered his gun and rested his sword on his shoulder. «Doc, just go home already.» He said, walking towards the Beelzebubs. Seeing there was no point in arguing, Ada turned around and took a light jog backtracking to the precinct.

Leon and Dante on the other hand stuck around and swiped the whole place clean. They even managed to find a few survivors that had locked themselves inside all sorts of places; restroom, closets, smaller offices and workbench rooms. At the end of the day, the duo sat down for a breather. Leon let his mind drift to what Ada had told them before she left. «Do you think Ada made it back?» He asked Dante. «Sure hope so.» Dante replied.

Maybe it would be a good idea to give Ada some gun training, Leon wondered. Should be alright, there's the shooting range they can use and getting a gun is no problem in this city, legal or otherwise. If Dante can get away with walking around with two hand cannons, Ada should be able to get a normal gun without a hitch.

Dante rose to his feet and started to head for the exit. Leon mentioned his idea for Dante as they came outside. «As long as it is for defensive purposes, I don't mind. Knock yourself loose.» He said to Leon, patting him on the shoulder. It made Leon feel better about the idea, having Dante's blessing and all. «You better not plan on adding her on our future field trips though.» Dante warned with a clear and sharp edge to his words.

A chill crawled up and down Leon's spine, the wet sweat marks on his shirt crew suddenly ice cold. «I can't loose her Leon, that's why we've gotta keep her safe, got it?» Dante said, turning over his shoulder, glaring deep into Leon's eyes and beyond. The next second Dante flashed a smart grin and said: «Buy me pizza?» The two spent the rest of the way home arguing why Leon should buy Dante a pizza.


	14. Kyklops

**Kyklops**

It was just over two in the morning on a Sunday. Sam was on his way back home to wife and kids after a long and wet night on the town. Still quite few miles west of clean stinking sober, Sam wobbled around here and there, not really walking a straight path to his front yard. Even so it was a beautiful night, with dawn just a few hours away.

Not a cloud on the sky, the stars shimmering cold and bright, the new moon ever so slowly gliding across the heavens. It would have been even better if that pick pile of rock didn't block the way to Raccoon Campus Subway Entrance. «Probably some damn art project that has gone loose.» Sam grunted to himself, stumbling along trying to find away around it.

After a good five minutes of fooling around, Sam figured that even being drunk, this was getting ridiculous. It was almost as if the stones were alive and moving around, preventing Sam to enter the subway. «Listen here you stupid piece of mud! I wanna go home and screw my wife, so fuck off!» Sam spat out his words, along with a generous spray of saliva.

The rock moved around and Sam could see his reflection in the largest yellow-green eye he'd ever seen. Larger than his head and flanked by two smaller eyes on either side. It might not be the best thing to do when facing a demon at the size of a large SUV, but all Sam could do was vomit out the last drink he had before leaving the bar.

Some hours later, Trish banged into Dante's shop down at Portland. «Wohoo. Where's the fire Trish?» Dante asked, glancing up from his newspaper. «A man was found dead at Raccoon Campus.» Trish said, all fired up. Dante just looked at her with a dumb expression. People die all the time, where's the newsflash?

«Relax Trish. If something odd comes up the cops put Leon on the case, then Leon gives me a call. As you can see, the phone isn't ringing.» Dante said with a happy tone before sinking back into his chair. «Leon won't be getting this case as the man was apparently killed in an accident.» Trish explained. Dante didn't even bother looking over his newspaper for that one. Since when did he give a damn about accidents?

Turning another page on his newspaper, he saw a short story about what Trish had been talking about. «Says here he died because he got a rock over him.» Dante mused, not impressed. «Yeah, though there's real explanation to where that rock came from, or where it went afterwards.» Trish shot back, still excited. Dante peeped over his paper again. «The rock just walked away?» He asked. Trish nodded.

Hiding behind his paper again, Dante said: «That's some smart rock you've got there Trish. Even got the brains to leave the crime scene after the crime is committed. Hot damn that one sharp rock, yes ma'am.» Trish didn't give up, and just walked over to Dante's bookshelf and found what she was looking for.

Sitting on the edge of Dante's desk, she began to read out aloud. «Kyklops, although they appear similar to the Phantom, they are still one of the low-class evil spirits. However, since they take on earth and rocks as host elements, they have substantial durability. Contrary to their appearance, they have superb leaping abilities.» That did get Dante's attention.

«Trish my girl, you're not that hot over low-class stuff. It's the big guys that gets you running, so what gives? Kyklops, they're pushovers right?» Dante asked, sitting straight in his chair, folding his arms on the desk and twisting his thumbs. «These are demonic relatives of Phantom, one of the biggest guys out there.» Trish explained. She carried out telling Dante that Phantoms usually served as high ranking officers in the invasion army that Sparda drove back to the Underworld.

There are no human records of anything stronger than Phantom. Most likely because no human ever got close enough and lived to tell the tale. If there were Kyklops crawling about, Phantoms rarely were far away. They were a good sign, kind of like bite marks on someones neck – you know you're dealing with vampires then. From there it didn't take Dante long to give Raccoon Campus a little visit.

Once there both Dante and Trish managed to get lost. «I thought you knew this place.» Trish pouted. «Cut me some slack, this place is huge.» Dante grumbled, looking around. «You graduated from here, so you should know your way around.» Trish snorted back. Dante gave her an odd look.

«I've never graduated here you dumb skull.» He told Trish. Now it was Trish's turn to look dumbstruck. «I quit school some time during junior high.» Dante admitted a little sheepishly. «Because of the chainsaw and Asuka-san?» Trish asked. Dante just nodded.

They walked around some more, looking at the sights and if anything out of the ordinary would pop up. Nothing special came to their attention. It looked pretty normal all things considered. «Do you have a graduation then?» Dante asked in a offhand manner while musing at a billboard. «Hardly.» Trish chuckled. What's with that laugh? Lack of education is no laughing matter, Dante thought, but held his tongue as he was no better off himself.

«How did you survive? I mean you quit at 11 years old.» Trish asked Dante. Frowning a little over the question, Dante tried to remember back. «Hell if I know, I took it one day at the time I guess.» He replied after some thought. Trish just nodded at the answer before she headed over to a small kiosk on the campus to ask for directions.

Another round without getting anywhere near the crime scene came and went. «What are you going to blame this time? The sun or the moon?» Dante asked. «Shut up, that old fart in the kiosk was lousy at giving directions.» Trish pouted. I know something else that is just as lousy, Dante told himself quietly in his mind.

Suddenly Dante got very excited and walked over to one of the buildings. «We've got to make note of this place!» He said, beaming like the sun. «What for? There's nothing here!» Trish argued, waving her arms around. Dante chuckled and replied that here were the gates to paradise. Trish on the other hand didn't look the slightest convinced.

Pointing down at the ground, Dante showed Trish what he meant. Down at the bottom of the wall were basement windows and just inside were showers, the ladies showers. «What are you? A perverted old geezer!?» Trish asked furiously while throwing a kick after him. Dante easily dodged and laughed it off. Finally they got some directions from one of the students and made their way to the scene.

There wasn't much to see. A pool of blood, a small crater on the ground and a trail of blood drops going off in a direction before stopping. «Okay, here we are. Shake your tail feather or whatever you do.» Dante said, opening his arms to the crime scene. «Who's going to shake what?» Trish asked with an insulted look on her face.

A student walked up to the two of them. They both stopped their conversation and looked at the student before exchanging glances. «Hey babe, can I take you on a date?» The student asked Trish. «No, you can go to hell. You can go to hell and you can die.» Trish replied coldly. «Dang girl, that guy's gonna have a limb dick for weeks 'cause of that.» Dante said, sounding impressed.

Trish walked around the crime scene, while she replied to Dante's comment. «Good for him, more blood for the brain. Good for his studies. Heck, he should be praising me when he gets the exam results.» Aren't we exaggerating just a little bit here, Dante thought to himself but decided to keep shut.

After examining the scene for a good hour, Trish had no real leads. «I'd say our best bet is to stake this place out. They might come back to this place.» She concluded. «Fine by me, who takes first shift?» Dante asked. Trish looked on her watch, frowning a little. «Well what do you know? If I leave now, I'll just make it home for my favorite series.» She said with a smile.

The hell? Buy a damn VCR! Dante had his mouth full of things he'd tell Trish when she came back. And she better come back or he'll do more than just tell her a thing or two. The hours dragged by slowly. Wish I had something to do to make the time move faster, Dante pouted to himself. He did find some entertainment earlier, peeping on the womens shower through one of the basement windows. Unfortunately the show was short as the girls finished far too quick for comfort.

Maybe the idea that women spend ages on the bathroom is exaggerated? A guy screamed for help, cutting through the otherwise calm campus grounds. Dante spun around and dashed towards the sound. Lucky me! Rounding another corner, Dante froze solid in his boots. It was just a weak guy getting bullied by some rather tough looking girls.

Kicking, hitting and tearing his clothes a part. The girls had the time of their lives. Awh well, nothing to do with me, Dante thought. He had bigger fish to catch. Bloody and bruised, the girls left the guy trembling and fumbling around for his glasses. The sun was nearly gone from the sky, hidden well behind the skyscrapers of Staunton Island.

Dante stood some ways away, watching the guy still looking for his glasses. In the poor light and with what must be terrible eye sight the man had little chance of finding his glasses on his own. Minutes dragged by, Dante kept on watching. Weak whimpering came from the man as he began to loose spirit.

Looking away, Dante considered taking another round over campus to see if the Kyklops had come out of hiding before he turned on his heel and walked up to the man. «Hey mister, you okay?» He asked the man. The man shrunk back, shielding his head with his hands. «Please, please! Don't hurt me!»

Pleas from the bottom of a broken spirit. Guilt stung inside Dante. Maybe he should have done something after all. Squatting down, Dante picked up the glasses. The frame was bent and one of the glasses had cracks and scratches in it, probably from when someone stepped on them. «Here, are these your glasses by any chance?» Dante asked, poking the mans trembling fingers with the glasses.

Slowly, like a flower opening itself to the warmth of the sun, the man lowered his guard and looked up at Dante. Not saying a word, the man picked up the glasses and adjusted the frame a little before putting them on. «C'mon, we better get you to a doctor. Carson General Hospital is not far from here. Can you walk?» Dante offered his leather gloved hand to the man.

Taking one arm over his shoulder and placing his free arm behind the mans back, the two walked at a slow pace towards Carson General Hospital. «Thank you...» The man said after some walking, his lips cracked open again and blood began to pop out again. «...no problem.» Dante said back, still feeling a stinging guilt.

The sky grew darker and by chance Dante looked up at the clouds high above and noticed a big piece of rock blocking his view. A split second later, Dante had shot off to his right, narrowly escaping the crushing lading of the Kyklops. The stranger Dante had helped was less fortunate and was utterly crushed under the rocky body.

Dante looked at the pulp of crushed human flesh. The guilt stinging on the inside grew, it felt like a glowing steel javelin. Trish came running up at that point, guns in hand. «Caught it! I spotted this one around a warehouse at the edge of Belleville. Took some time to flush it towards your place.» She was breathing heavily, but Dante didn't listen in.

He kept on looking at the remains of the poor man he'd helped, with each heartbeat his rage grew. «They can shoot rocks from their mouths, which they form by eating dirt. Try to avoid standing in front of them whenever possible. Although their armor is made from rocks, it is not unbreakable. Use the Devil Trigger to bash the monster along with their armors.» Trish carried on.

Swiftly drawing his sword, Dante rushed head first into the fight. «WHY YOUUUU!!!» Just before the sword cut into the stony skin, Dante unleashed his inner devil. Never slowing down, never pausing for a breather and abandoning all notion of mercy, Dante brutally poured all his rage into the fight.

At the end the Kyklops was reduced to a pile of hand sized rocks. Trish stood in the background, mouth gaping. She'd seen Dante move about before, but nothing anywhere near this. The rage, the hate that Dante had for all demons had always been used for fuel in combat, though constrained. For the first time Trish had seen Dante simply let go of nearly all constrains and focus on the enemy.

Had he been up against a more advanced enemy he'd lost, but Kyklops aren't the smartest of demons. What was the trigger? Trish was intrigued and made sure to make special note of this. Whatever the trigger was, she had to find it. It would prove vital in the time ahead. «I suppose congratulations are in order, on a job well done.» She finally said.

Dante was kneeling down, breathing heavily and felt how both his teeth and kneecaps were clattering from the adrenaline. «Do these guys have a lair of some sort?» He asked Trish with a hoarse voice. «Yeah, it's not unheard of that they group up together in a single location.» Trish replied.

Getting to his feet, sheeting his sword behind his back and checking the bullets in his guns, Dante smiled to himself. «Belleville, huh?» With that, Dante left for Belleville and ended up rounding up another 4 Kyklops. All of them with ruthless efficiency and with the same near senseless rage that had killed the first one.

Back at Dante's shop the mood was heavy and oppressive. «That was... different.» Trish finally said. Dante remained silent, quietly disassembling Ivory for cleaning. «Want to talk about it?» Trish pressed the subject a little further. Again Dante didn't bother with a reply. «Well, at any rate get some rest afterwards. You had a busy night.» She finally said before taking her leave.

Alone with his guns, Dante paused his cleaning. How the hell was he going to sleep after something like that? Sure his body was screaming for a break, but his mind and emotions were all over the place, racing around like mad. Why now? He'd seen and even done worse to people than simply crushing them under a rock.

What the heck was going on? Why couldn't he get that stupid pricks face out of his head? How come that his humble thank you kept echoing in Dante's ears? «FUCK!» In a fit of rage, Dante swept his arm over the desk, sending phone and gun parts flying into the wall. Rubbing his face, Dante peeked form between his fingers. His eyes landed on the photograph on his desk. It calmed him down a little, though he was still troubled.

While Dante struggled to find right from left as far as his emotions went, Leon was busy giving Ada gun lessons. On the shooting range, Leon had told her time and time again what Dante had told him. Ada was not going to run around playing hero, this was a safety measure alone. It seemed to do the trick as Ada didn't raise any objections on the issue and grew confident with her gun. She also experimented with alternative firearms like shotguns and sub-machine guns.

On their way back from the shooting range, the two of them ran into Trish. She asked Ada if she had heard of an incident similar to the one that had happened at the campus. Ada on the other hand said she rarely saw Dante doing his work while she was around. There had been episodes yes, but they were not a field team in that sense. From the few times she had seen Dante in action, she couldn't recall any episodes of him going berserk, as Trish called it.


	15. Blade

**Blade**

«Devil May Cry.» Dante sighed into the phone that had been persistently ringing for a good 20 minutes. «Dante-sama? This is Asuka, can you come back here to my Condo when you are ready, so we can have a little chat?» Asuka said in the other end of the phone line. «Yeah I've got time, give me five and I'll be right over.» Dante replied before he hung up. Smells like a job, a nasty one at that, he thought to himself as he picked up his gear.

After parking his bike outside Asuka's Condo, Dante headed for the pool side of the place, flipping the bike keys in his hand while humming a rock tune that was stuck on his mind. He found Asuka standing on the inside of the sliding doors leading to the pool. Tapping the glass pane with his finger, Dante got her attention. It didn't take long before he was let inside the luxurious Condo.

Not saying a word, patiently waiting for Asuka to take the lead, Dante simply stood there watching. «I've a job for you Dante-sama.» She began. «Unfortunately we can't afford to have the police involved in this one – not even your forensic assistant, so you'll be on your own.» She continued. Well just as good, all things considered Dante thought, while staying mute.

Asuka was unusually cautious around the subject. Dante figured that she suspected her Condo bugged, so she used vague terms. It didn't give him much to work with, but she managed to slip a note to him while pretending to adjust the collar on his coat for him. «My... offer from back then still stands, Dante-sama.» She whispered in his ear.

Putting his hand over hers, Dante cracked the faintest of smiles and took his leave. Local cops were not really an issue for Asuka, so it had to be someone higher. Federal perhaps? Asuka and her brother did come from overseas so that could draw attention of the federal guys if things got a little too noisy. Thread lightly, he reminded himself.

After driving around with no sense or purpose for a good hour, Dante pulled over and took a look at the note Asuka had slipped him earlier. A name, a location and a time. Ray Machowski, Belleville Park at 18:30. Checking the clock on one of the TV sets that stood on display in the shop window on his left, Dante noticed he would make it easily with time to spare. «High definition sure looks nice.» He muttered to himself before starting up his bike again.

Dante arrived at Belleville Park and walked around, looking for something that might stand out. Nothing did. Then again whomever this Ray fellow was, he'd be careful as well and not stride around in the open. Only place around here that offered privacy was the WC. Taking a closer look at the door Dante noticed the out of order sign. Cute.

The place was in bad shape, no kind of cleaning had been done here for weeks if not even longer. Dante stopped on the dime as he felt a gun pointed at the back of his head and the cock pulled backwards. «I know what you're thinking, another bent cop. Well it's a bent world. Just 'cause I lost a few partners, those suckers from internal affairs have started sniffing around. Reckon they can smell me. Well, this city is just one big open sewer. But I'm gonna need some non-union help. And that's who you are, right?» The man said with an uneasy edge to his words.

«Detective Machowski, I presume?» Dante said with a humors tone. «Yeah and no funny stuff.» Ray spat back, making a point by pressing the gun deeper into the back of Dante's head. Slowly turning around, Dante smiled a wicked smile. Standing a full head taller than Ray, Dante looked intimidating to say the least.

Not affected by the presence of a gun, Dante bent down a little and bit the tip of the gun barrel, his smile widened to a evil grin. «You're crazy!» Ray spat out. «Have to be in order to do what I do.» Dante shot back. «And you're dead if you pull that trigger.» He added. Dante might take a serious blow from such a shot, but he'll come through. Ray on the other hand would have to answer to every gangster in town for what he did, and run from the law at the same time.

Ray wasn't dumb, he could connect a few dots ahead of the game. That was no doubt in credit of his police training. He was in no position to bark around orders. «So the deal is that I bail you out and you tell me what Asuka should be telling me?» Dante asked when Ray put his gun away. Ray just nodded. «Good, now lets get out of here. This place smells like piss.» Dante suggested, heading for the exit.

On their way back to Dante's bike several police cars rushed in on them, sirens screaming and lights flashing. Ray didn't waste time. Despite his rather round figure, he was quick on his feet. Dante followed him just feet away. The strange duo made their way into a clothes store, pushing employees and customer out of their way while scrambling over cloth stands and crashing into change closets.

Despite their efforts, getting indoors proved to be a mistake. Ray had secured a half naked customer as hostage while anyone else had made it safe outside. This was getting bad, worse and flat out terrible. At the end of the day Dante couldn't care less what happened to this guy. Asuka might be an issue depending on the final outcome, but Dante had plenty of cards in his deck to play.

«Talk to me Ray, tell me what I need to know and I'll...» Dante didn't get to finish. Ray started babbling his head off so fast Dante had trouble keeping up. Asuka had been in conflict with a Columbian drug cartel for the past few months. Push came to shove and Asuka's men ended up badly killed. The few that came out with their lives intact spoke of dragons leaping out of the ground.

Ray had been on Asuka's payroll on this matter, sweeping the worst details under the carpet to make sure federal involvement would not become a reality. However with the bodies piling up there were limits to what Ray could do. It cost him two partners and three other co-workers, but with internal affairs musing into between the lines, Ray couldn't keep up. He had to get out, and Asuka had put Dante up as his ticket to freedom.

«Now do something!» Ray demanded of Dante. «Like what?!» He snapped back. «Anything!» Ray pleaded in response, his gun trembling in his hand. Dante stomped up to Ray and twisted the gun out of his hand, grabbed him by the neck and lifted him a good feet off the floor. It was written all over his face, Dante could see the words clearly: what the hell are you doing?!

Dante slammed Ray's face into the counter causing the cashier to ping open from the shock. Ray was out cold and had just gotten a broken nose along with some busted teeth. «Wh-what did you do?» The customer who had been taken hostage stammered. «Anything...» Dante smiled coldly. Turning his attention to the hostage he was tempted to give her the same treatment, but went for the old scare tactic instead.

After whispering some encouraging words to the lady, Dante sent her off out to the cops while he secured himself the tape for the surveillance camera and ruined the tape utterly as he climbed the stairs to the roof. Once there he could hear the police were making sweeps of the store on the ground floor, securing the knocked out Ray. If all went according to plan, tomorrow's newspapers would have a heading saying heroic hostage knocked out crooked police officer in hostage stand-off. Best of all, not a word about Dante.

What Ray might say that could hurt Asuka would have to wait for another day. Her Yakuza empire would take a beating, but it would still stand tall enough to recover over time. Asuka might have given him money, but she'd never give a disloyal dog like that into the things that could lock her away in jail. Even if he spilled the beans on Dante, he'd have one witness saying different and no video tape to back up his words.

The cops might suspect and think their quiet thoughts but leave it at that. Chances are that not even Leon will learn of this until much later. All the better Dante thought to himself. With the smaller pebbles out of his way, Dante could focus on what he did best, hunting down and killing devils.

Shoreside Vale was the place things went down. More precisely the Beach Park, which is a small beach park east of Cedar Grove where one can have a lovely picnic. Or a gang brawl. It was quite a drive form where Dante was right now and with the cops crawling all over he didn't really feel like wading through that crowd. Instead Dante changed to his devil self and flapped his dark wings all the way to his destination.

Once there nothing really made the place reek of evil, which was a letdown for Dante. To the untrained eye this place was as calm and normal as it could get, but Dante could spot clues here and there that Asuka's clean-up crew had been over this place at least a few times. Footsteps caught Dante's attention and on reflex he spun around, guns ready. «Wow easy there, devil kid.» Trish said, sweeping her head to the side in an effort to dodge Dante's guns.

Who's the devil kid, Dante grumbled in his head while he holstered his guns. «So what gives?» He asked her, taking a seat. Trish had spotted him from her apartment and got curious on what he was up to this time. The two exchanged some ideas and thoughts about what Dante was up against this time. Trish put her money on a demon-kin commonly referred to as Blade.

«They are soldiers created by the Dark Emperor to take control of the surface. They use a kind of reptile as a host body, thus having much lizard-like characteristics.» Trish informed Dante. When they notice that their pray is weakening, they will with out mercy, come to finish you. So remember to always be on guard was another advice she offered. Trish offered a cautious warning that these were possessors of superior agility, the Blades can resume their positions even when they're struck up into the air. Trying to defeat them with monotonous attacks will be a difficult task.

Dante asked about weaknesses that he might exploit. Trish frowned for a long time, trying to remember. «Their weak points lie beneath the armor they wear, which protects them from most attacks. However, not all their vulnerable parts are covered. It is safe to say that by attacked exposed areas, you can inflict a lot of damage.» Was all that she could come up with, although it was common sense really. Even so, it was better than nothing.

They were about to leave the park to get something to eat and as they haggled of who should pay for the extra large pizza, Dante heard a distant rumbling sound coming closer and an ever so faint tremble in the ground. «Trish...» He said sounding dead serious. She turned her head with a mild interest in her eyes. Just behind Dante two man sized lizard like creatures shot up from the ground, shooting dirt and pebbles everywhere.

Throwing his massive sword into the chest of the left most lizard and a fraction of a second later pumping bullets into the belly of the right most lizard, Dante bent his knees and kicked off into the fight as he called out for Trish to get away and to safety. He couldn't see it, but Trish allowed herself a smart little smirk before jumping to inhuman heights and out of sight.

With the surprise attack failing, the main group came in for the lead attack. Securing his sword, Dante went to systematically test his opponents defenses. The round shield on their forearm is reinforced with evil powers and deflects most attacks, or so it seemed to Dante as regular sword slashes just slided or bounced off. Given his swift kills of his two ambushers, their defense is good against attacks that come from above, but not so for the attacks that come from below.

The mask they wear protects them well against bullets, Dante spat curses and other foul language as he had wasted two whole clips for just a few scratches on the mask. He could either destroy the mask quickly with alternative attacks or go around the enemy to attack it from other angles. Figuring them for close combat type, Dante pulled back through a series of exotic jumps, dodges and short dashes. Flipping a table over for some improvised cover, Dante to a second to catch his breath and reload his guns.

With his hands trembling from the adrenaline, the silver clip made a clinkering sound before Dante managed to slide it in and take a loading grip, sliding the first bullet into the barrel. A quick series of 3 finger long, tooth like bones sliced through the wooden table like it was newspaper. Glancing over the edge of the table Dante got his first surprise. «They can pressurize their blood, concentrate it to their claws, and shoot them out like missiles!?» Although their front paws were a bloody mess, the self inflicted injuries healed at an unnatural rate. He could even see the bone growing out with his naked eyes. When I see them take the stance to fire, do I best to dodge them, Dante mused to himself, getting pumped even more up with the new challenge ahead.

«Alright, I'll give you a little special treat.» Dante smirked to himself and rushed out to the demons. With a swift and powerful move, Dante drew his sword and swung it in an upward arch, scraping up the ground as he stepped forward. Hitting one of the Blade demons with the broad side of his sword right under its chin, the clash sent it up in the air. «HIGH TIME!» Dante screamed with sadistic delight as he holstered his sword and pulled out his guns, ready to unload their massive bullets into the demons guts.

The demon had other ideas however. It managed to get its bearings, wiggle around while in the air and slapped Dante across the face with its tail, sounding like a massive bull whip went off. Bleeding black blood badly from his upper lip and across his left cheek up to his ear, Dante skidded backwards. Possessors of superior agility, the Blades can resume their positions even when they're struck up into the air, huh? Trying to defeat them with monotonous attacks will be a difficult task. Dante mused, licking his wound with his tongue.

Even Blades equipped with masks, claws, and agility will not stand a chance when they are put off balance. If I attack from behind and take them down face first, then attack from the air to finish them for good. It made sense in Dante's head. While it took a few tries to get into a rhythm, Dante managed to find a general way to put these beast out of their misery. With all the demons dead or at the very least dying, Dante was beaten and tired, yet happy. He felt... alive when running along the edge of a sword or staring down the barrel of a gun.

A faint applause caught his ears and he looked over his left shoulder where he saw Trish sitting atop of 4 dead demons with a pizza in her lap. «12 demons in less than 30 minutes and you didn't even give in to your demonic blood.» She said as if praising him. With an annoyed look Dante pointed his silver gun in her direction and just as Trish's blue eyes widened with disbelief he pulled the trigger.

The shot missed Trish and made a splatter of an entrance into the top-most demon Trish was sitting on. «It wasn't dead. How rude.» Trish let out a nervous giggle as she looked down on the gaping bullet wound. Dante remained silent, his hands still trembling from the adrenaline. He didn't want Trish to seem like this; wounded, battered, sweaty and covered with demon blood and gore. It was just – wrong.

Making their way back home to Trish's place, the two chatted about causal everyday things. «What kind of person runs off and orders pizza in that kind of situation anyway?» Dante protested. «I do, all the time.» Trish smiled back. Just to rub it in Trish had ordered a custom pizza, heavy on the olives. «But I hate those!» Dante protested, but Trish just laughed a rich merry laugh, not listening to his pleas. She never intended to listen to them from the very beginning.


	16. The Summoner

**The Summoner**

A cloaked figure walked down the the stairs to the subway station, the hood kept the head sheltered from prying eyes and the featureless golden and reflective mask covered up what the hood could not. The clattering of subway trains rolling over their tracks echoed down the the tunnel, though none took notice for the subway station was deserted. Swiftly the hooded figure moved to the tracks and jumped down. On quick feet it moved deeper into the tunnel until it was swallowed up by the surrounding darkness.

Strange markings that looked like they were carved into the wall with some primitive tool began to give off a golden glow as the cloaked figure approached them. Running a glove covered hand over the runes gently as if assuring them that it came with peace, a rough cut out section of the wall sunk in and slided aside. Hearing a train approaching fast, the cloaked figure slipped inside with grace a moment before the train thundered past.

Inside the wall was utter and complete darkness, so with a slow hand gesture the cloaked figure lit several dozen candles that were scattered about. The insuring light revealed that the room was huge, large enough to house a full cathedral and then some. Markings of ancient evil awoke from their slumber and greeted the hooded figure with a orange glowing aura that reeked of a cruel doom. This time for sure, now it would work for sure. Success was an option, failure was not.

The hooded figure got into potion and squatted down, clapping its hands twice in front of its mask before it began a cryptic chant in a twisted tongue not known to man. All of the runes, the very hall itself responded to the chant, humming at the rhythm of the chant, rising as it rose, crawling when it crawled. At the climax the figure cut its left palm and held the wound up to the ceiling, only to clench it and throw drops of blood around it. Then... silence.

As the runes themselves cooled down, their task for now were done, it was the very rock floor that began spewing out steam and melt into a thick pulp. A low rumble followed and although the golden mask kept the face underneath perfectly hidden, one could tell that a smirk of satisfaction lurked behind its shiny surface. The ever sweet taste of success dripped down and soaked the hall as giant legs of partially melted and solid rock kicked out from the pulpy and melted rock floor.

A hideous beast from ages long past and best forgotten pulled itself up from its prison, an eternal abyss of fire, rock and a hatred worthy only the finest of the Underworld's servants. «AAAAAAHH! The fresh air of the mortal realm! How I've missed its smell.» The beast cried out in a cruel voice never meant for mortal men to hear. Once it had pulled itself free it took a brief moment to look around with its eight eyes. It was then it noticed the hooded figure that had freed it from its prison. «I suppose thanks are in order for freeing me from those damn chains forged by the Traitor, so I'll not crush you like the pathetic mortal that you are.» It snorted at the hooded figure, whom show no signs of fear or awe at the massive creature in front of it.

The beast was large enough to battle on a bus in matters of sheer size, and it had a hideous body that reminded much of a giant spider. Its body consisted mostly of solid rock, but it appeared that its inner organs, assuming it has such a thing, was made of molten rock. «As refreshing as the air of the mortal realm might be, it misses a crucial ingredient; the sweet stench of human blood.» The beast commented more to itself than to the hooded figure. Without a word or the slightest effort, the hooded figure made another gesture and one of the rock walls broke away, making a clear doorway to what looked like a complex maze of tunnels. «Don't you dare think that you can use me to fill your own needs. Think that thought just once, and I'll make you regret it for the rest of your life, both seconds of it.» The spider beast snorted before it stomped off into the maze.

On another end of town and on a completely different level, Dante had his fair share of troubles with a group of spirits gone bad on the top of a office complex. They looked and moved a lot like the scissor spirits he'd fought off just a couple of days ago, except that these evil spirits have scythes instead of scissors. Like the Sin Scissors, whom Dante had named the previous spirits, they are dependent on their masks. They cannot exist without them and that appears to be the only good thing about them. The large spinning scythe attack is an expression of the Sin's hatred and anger, or so Dante figured since they used it only when he managed to really tick them off.

He had been after these things for a good 2 hours straight, chasing them all the way to the top and along the way he'd learned that he had to be quick on his feet to evade the returning scythe of the boomerang scythe attacks. On the last floor, just underneath the roof they had begun to use some sort of umbrella-like shape that appeared to be a nucleus that gathers evil spirits and converts them into its own energy. When this occurred, they became even more fierce.

This whole thing started when Dante got a panicked phone call earlier. Some guy (whom Dante later found dead) screamed out that something in the office stabbed their prey with their scythes and immobilize them to steal their souls. Not long after that, the line went dead. Who the caller was or how he got Dante's number is anyones guess, but since Dante managed to catch the shriek of the spirits before the line went dead, he figured it wasn't some prank call. A quick call to trace the last call and thus get the address was easy, from there it was a made bike ride over to the place, break of some demonic demon door seal on the 17th floor and it was showtime.

As with the Sin Scissors, if Dante succeed in deflecting the scythes, he was be able to create an opening for attack. Dante had given Trish's words some thought, of how to better use his natural talent as a fighter, but so far it had remained at just that, a thought. For now, he had a little more pressing issue at hand; he'd just run out of shotgun shells. Several scythes came flying towards Dante and as he jump and twisted around in mid air to dodge two of them, one was shot off course with a few well placed bullets from Ivory, a forth was brushed aside along the edge of his sword, but the fifth cut straight through Dante's left calf.

Landing with a loud thud and sliding across the concrete roof floor, tearing up his leather coat and skin as if it was paper, Dante lost grip on Ivory and it to skid out of his reach. Turning around on his back, Dante groaned in pain as the scythe in his calf dug around in his wound at every movement he made. The killing hurt in his shoulder from the landing didn't really make things any easier. Looking up, Dante noticed that the remaining spirits started circling around him. «Prepping for the finishing move are we?» Dante panted before breaking into delightful laughter.

With a short and brutal yank, Dante pulled out the scythe in his calf and almost at the same instant, he unleashed the darker half of himself. With scythe in hand, Dante rose to the skies and after some strong slashes and cuts, the Sin Scythe's were disposed of. Landing gently to make sure he didn't push his injured leg any more than needed, Dante's lower lip trembled with thrills from the previous kills as he fought to calm down his own adrenaline rush. «Control, you must learn control.» A women commented from behind.

Dante wasn't much surprised when he turned around to face Trish. Heaven knows how she did it, but that woman knew when and where to find Dante, like some goddamn bloodhound from somewhere most unpleasant. «You say that, but you never say how.» Dante grumbled, his voice lower and distorted due to his demonic form. «Flow with the heat of battle in harmony.» Trish replied, walking up to Dante. «That doesn't make much sense, and I'm NOT in the mood for your riddles. So either you give it to me straight or you shut the hell up.» Dante said loud and clear, pointing a clawed finger at her nose.

With that off his chest, Dante limped over to where Ivory was laying. «If you insist, son of Sparda.» Trish sighed and caught up with him. From behind she planted her right hand over his ear and uttered some quick phrase in a language Dante didn't understand. It felt as if a small electrical charge just stung inside his ear and Dante nudged his head away from Trish's hand in reflex. «Goddammit! I told you I'm...» Dante broke himself off. He felt a little different, as if a curtain had been lifted from his eyes or to be more precise; his mind.

«The hell did you do to me?!» Dante's initial reaction surprised even Trish. Her eyes and face widened with shock as Dante's right hand locked itself firmly around her throat. It was there only for a fraction of a second before Dante withdrew. Looking down on the floor, lost in deep thought Dante looked very troubled. He refused to look Trish in the face for the remaining of the day. He just quietly picked up his gun, faded gently into his more human self and left without a word.

Back at the office, Ada was over at Dante's request to tend to his injured leg and shoulder. «Any ideas of what we should tell the officials regarding the 4 dead people in that office building?» Ada asked while finishing bandaging Dante's leg which was resting on his desk. Dante remained silent, holding on to a big red jewel in a silver frame of some sort, stroking his thumb over it ever so gently. «Hello? Earth to Dante?» Ada tried again, but all in vain. Sighing with disappointment, Ada turned her attention to Dante's shoulder. Carefully she began cleaning the wound, patting it with a ball of cotton dipped in a sterile cleansing liquid. She expected some sort of hissing and the usual complains from Dante, but it was as if his mind was either totally blank or miles away.

When Ada was about half done with the bandaging of the shoulder, Dante looked her straight in the eyes and asked bluntly: «You through?» Ada was taken aback by the question for some reason. For a moment Dante sounded like someone else. «A-a-almost, just a few more minutes.» She replied nervously. Dante just faintly nodded and dived down in whatever thoughts he had roaming in the halls and corridors of his mind. Some more minutes passed in silence before Ada was done with treating the wounded shoulder. «I'll leave some painkillers for you to help you when you want to sleep. As usual, take it easy the next week or so and try not to...» Ada's eyes locked into Dante's and they looked so... dead. «...walk...or...run too much on your foot, it will only slow down the healing and naturally... increase the discomfort.» She finished, turning her attention to packing down her improvised surgery kit.

Dante leaned down to his right, opened a drawer in his desk and fumbled around a little before he picked up a small piece of paper that looked like some sort of ticket and handed it over to Ada. «For your trouble.» He mumbled before leaning back in his chair. «Ticket for the up-coming Apocalyptica concert?» Ada looked at him surprised and puzzled. «Got it from Joey for some stupid reason. I don't feel like going, so...» Dante replied in a brooding tone. «Thank you.» Ada said sincerely before picking up her things and leaving.

Different, Dante felt different. It was clear and yet lost in a fuzzy blur at the same time, he couldn't for the life of him put his finger on what was different. It made him feel uneasy and troubled to say the least. As he ran the scene, events and words over and over again in his head, he came back to the same words at every turn: «Control, you must learn control.» There was no denying, it was a valid point.

Grabbing the little bottle of painkillers, Dante got off his chair to limb himself to bed, his leg and shoulder objecting to any movement. _«Hear my silent prayer, heed my quiet call, when the dark and damned surround you.»_ It was a faint, gentle whisper. Dante paused and looked around, scanning the highs and lows of his office with his cold eyes, but saw nothing. Shrugging it off as a trick on his mind, he carried on with his limbing. _«Step into my sigh, look inside the light, you will know that I have found you.»_ It returned, the faint and kind whisper.

Being more on edge than usual, Dante didn't feel comfortable with the idea of just dismissing this whispering in his ears, or head for that matter. Whispering in his head? Was it Trish's little trick that was finally showing its colors or was it something different? Harmless or hostile? Questions and no answers, like always. Turning back to his desk, Dante picked up his phone and dialed a number. «Donkey? Get your boys to keep their eyes open for that Kennedy cop and when they find him, get him over to my place. Don't make a fuzz about it though.» Dante instructed over the phone and hung up with a loud rattling with the phone before El Burro could cough up an objection or another form for reply.

A good hour later, when Dante was dozing off in his bed after taking some of the painkillers, he heard someone enter his office downstairs. By the sound of it, it was a couple of El Burro's boys that came to deliver Leon right on his doorstep. «Dante?» Leon called out when El Burro's boys left. «Yeah, get your ass up here Leon.» Dante shouted. Leon climbed the stairway up to the second floor and looked around before popping his head into Dante's bedroom. «Jesus what a mess...» He sighed at the look of Dante's bedroom. «Yeah, yeah, yeah... Listen I want you to dig up that Trish lady for me. I'd do it myself, but I'm in no condition to dance around town unless its an emergency.» Dante grumbled, feeling much like his bedroom looked like. «Heard from the doc that you got banged up a little.» Leon smirked, standing in the door frame. «Get out before I shove you out, through the keyhole.» Dante mumbled, tossing lazy around in his bed.

As Leon went off on his first errand for Dante, the painkillers kicked in for real and Dante soon dozed off to sleep. The whispering voice in his head grew clearer and as time passed it lost some of its gentle breeze like touch. How long Dante laid like this, he had no idea since one hour seemed to slide seamlessly into the next, though eventually hunger and thirst pulled Dante out of his sleep. Limbing downstairs again, Dante order some Chinese take-away before dragging his tired frame to the back where the bathroom was to get some water. While having the water running to get it nice and cold, Dante looked at his reflection in the mirror. Yup, there was no mistaking it; he looked like a train-wreck.

Bending down to drink from the sink, Dante began feeling a tingling sensation all over his skin, it was as if he had a million ants or insects crawling all over his skin. Turning the water off, Dante leaned on the sink and lowered his head, trying to get a grip on himself. Was it the painkillers? If so that would be odd, because he hadn't felt like this before and he'd taken PLENTY of painkillers in the past. Perhaps it was a late effect from those scythe spirits he fought earlier? Didn't make much sense, since they didn't looked like they were packing something serious (not by Dante's standards anyway). If his head didn't felt like it was on fire, Dante might actually sit down and look it up in one of Trish's books, but right now reading was the last thing he wanted to do.

Taking a seat behind his desk and resting his injured leg on the desk, Dante felt feverish, dizzy and the tingling sensation on his skin increased over time. Now it wasn't as if he had bugs on his skin, it felt more like they were under his skin and it made him restless. Rubbing his arms and scratching his chest didn't help much. Just what in the blazes was going on? The doors opened and a small Chinese kid came in with a box filled with Dante's take-away order. He was in no mood to argue, so he just stuffed some money to the kid, told him to keep the change and get out. Considering that there was probably $250 in change, the kid was eager to get out before Dante had a change of heart.

Eating slowly, as despite his hunger the apatite wasn't there, the food just felt like a tasteless mass in his mouth, Dante had a hard time staying focused on what he was doing. «Dante?» He looked up as he heard someone call his name. His vision began to blur and it was as if he was looking without seeing. Absentmindedly Dante opened the top drawer in his desk and fumbled inside for some sort of weapon. «Hush, hush Dante. It's okay.» It was a gentle and soothing voice that Dante's tired mind wished welcome. «Is he okay?» Another voice asked from the back. The two voices chatted calmly amongst each other, the words hurled through Dante's mind, nothing sticking to it, they were just sounds.

Some time later, Dante found himself laying in his bed, carefully wrapped under the sheets and a puffed up pillow under his head. Next to his bed sat Trish, her head nodding sleepishly. _«Hear my silent prayer, heed my quiet call, when the dark and damned surround you.»_ That damn thing never knows when to call it the day, does it, Dante asked himself mentally as he ruffled through his hair with both hands in an effort to chase the whispering away. «Hey there, you're finally awake?» Trish asked, yawning. «More or less.» Dante said in a hoarse voice. «I'll admit that your condition isn't over the top, but I'm no doctor so why would you send Leon, of all people, to look for me?» Trish asked him.

Dante turned his head away from Trish. How to put it? I trust you and Leon? I can't show weakness to the gangsters in Raccoon City? I used Leon as a cover, betting on that Donkey would dismiss it as some «business talk» between him and Leon, business Donkey does not want to get into? I think I've caught some sort of demonic flu? Dante discarded the last one the second it came to mind. «I... hear a voice, a whisper... calling to me, in my head.» He began, feeling silly already. «Hallucinations from the painkillers perhaps? You took enough to knock out a grown mountain gorilla.» Trish suggested. «No, no... this is... a different bag.» He disagreed with her. «Well what is it saying then, this voice of yours?» Trish asked.

He repeated the two phrases word for word to Trish, whom then gave it some thought. «You're being summoned, or more specifically your demon half is being summoned.» She concluded. «Ha?» Dante looked at her, his face being one big question mark. «Oh come one Dante.» Trish objected, rising from her chair as she did. «You of all people should be familiar with it, hell even teenagers these days do things like this; scribble something down on a floor or wall, light some candles, chant a little and hopefully something will show up.» Trish explained.

Dante gave her words some thought. Yeah, he'd been into a few cases like that. Goth kids that think they can pull off some sort of stunt, grab a book, learn Latin and off they go. Of course reality is a different ball game than TV or movies, so when the shit hits the fan, they scramble around like scared little kittens, leaving Dante as the cleanup crew. Usually they don't know their Latin good enough or they translated it wrong or they forgot an ingredient or a symbol in their drawings. These cases were simple, since Dante could easily dismiss them to the public as crazy kids whom had lost their foothold on reality. The worst beast of all is Man himself. The newspapers ate it up like sugar.

One questioned remained though, what to do about it? Fine he was getting a summoning of some sort, cool, he was popular. He'd be signing autographs full time by the end of the week, awesome. Dante didn't have any plans on becoming anyone's little pet devil, but ignoring the summoning was hard. It was ten times worse than having the phone ringing on for a full day, since his own body was the damn phone ringing, with fever and bugs in under his skin. «What do I do?» He asked Trish seriously. «By the look in your eyes, I can guess that you want it to stop and you're not going to bow down or kneel to anyone or anything; dead, undead or alive.» Trish noted with a smile. «You're right on the dollar, as usual.» Dante smirked back.

Trish explained that by the looks of it, it wasn't a strong summoning, plus Dante's half blood and unique bloodline gave him a natural resistance towards summons. So in a nutshell the easiest way to solve the problem would be to answer the call, tell whomever or whatever that was at the other end to leave him the hell alone or Armageddon would be arriving earlier than expected and leave it at that. Since the summon didn't have the power to pull Dante to the summoner(s), it was very likely that they weren't in a position to contain him once he arrived, so he could say and do whatever the hell he wanted once he got there.

The two went downstairs, where Trish gave Dante a crash course in how to deal with summons. «First off you must tap into your demon, once the demon is on the surface you should be able to visualize a portal of some sort that will take you to where the summoner is.» Dante flashed into his demonic self so fast it made a breeze in his office. Looking around, Dante saw it clear as day; a glowing circular pattern of some sort, with symbols and writings on it right in the middle of the office. From it, a bright beam of purple and blue light shot up and through the roof. «So I just... step into the portal?» He asked Trish. «Yes, though one last word of advice; be careful: some summoners use low power summons to irritate a demon into rushing in with their guard lowered. The moment they come through, the summoner hits them hard with spells that will bind and tie the demon to their will and command.» Trish cautioned.

It was a calculated risk, but although he felt like a pile of trash, Dante figured he'd come out on top of this one too. Hell, he always did. With his left hand on the gun in his belt and his right hand over his shoulder, holding around his swords hilt, Dante stepped forward and into the light.

For Dante the trip was fast, smooth and aside from a big bright and utterly blending light, without form or content. When he came to he found himself in a basement of some sort. All the clichés where here; the tall and golden gothic looking candle stakes complete with white burning candles, scribblings on the walls and floor, some animals that had been gutted and their blood spilled around and last but not least; a hooded figure sitting with its legs crossed and a book resting in its lap, chanting. «Oy, you there.» Dante called out to the figure. The figure stopped chanting and looked up in awe and wonder at Dante's tall, dark and evil silhouette. «It worked!» The figure exclaimed, shooting up like a rocket. «Easy there tiger.» Dante said with a ice cold voice, drawing his sword and putting it right on the hooded figure's left shoulder. «That's far enough. Now is there any reason why I shouldn't beat you to pulp, giving you at least 6 dozen brand new definitions of the words pain and agony?» He asked, sliding the sword closer to the figure's neck.

Slowly and gently the figure removed its hood and revealed the face of a girl. «I say goddamn you're a ugly bitch!» Dante spilled out while making a face of disgust. The short girl had her dark red hair in two plaits that just touched her shoulders, her face bombarded with freckles, both her upper and lower teeth had braces on them and her eyes were mismatching colors; one blue and one green. «I... I command Thee, dark blood servant of the Underworld, in the name of Hades...» The girl began, much to Dante's surprise. «Awh shaddup already!» Dante barked and grabbed the collar on her hooded cape, yanked her face close to his and gave her a good head butt which resulted in a nosebleed on her end.

Dropping her to the floor like a broken doll, Dante looked around for an exit, since the portal apparently only worked one way. Then she began to cry or wailing would be a better word for it. It didn't take long before her wailing really got on Dante's nerves. Shoving Ivory into her mouth, Dante glared at her with rage as he spat out: «Will you shut the hell up?!» Eyes wide with fear, the girl shrunk back to a faint whimpering with the occasional sob to catch her breath. Shit, now I got drool all over my gun, Dante groaned mentally as he looked closer at Ivory. «I think you just broke my nose and three of my teeth...» The girl sobbed, picking out pieces of teeth from her mouth and collecting them in the palm of her hand. «You got something to say?!» Dante barked at her, causing her to shrink even further down and away.

The girl was probably too hysterical to redo the spell and send Dante back home, or so he figured. Normally it wouldn't pose much trouble, just climb the stairs, get outside and fly home. However, Dante had no clue of where «here» was. It could be anywhere; another town, another state, another country... hell, with Dante's usual luck he'd be caught in some twisted and most surreal alternative and/or parallel reality. «Alright girl, just who are you?» Dante asked, calming down a bit. «Huh? I'm...ah... I'm Jessica.» She said, sniffing as she spoke. «Where is this place?» Dante then asked. «Uhm... Raccoon City, Portland...» Jessica replied, her voice trembling. «At least it's not Silent Hill. Guess somebody somewhere still cares about me.» Dante mumbled to himself.

Ignoring the girl, Dante walked across the room where he found a heavy steel door. As he opened it, the steel groaned in a high pitch. «I...» Jessica began calling after Dante, which really ticked him off. In a flash he spun around, took aim and shot two quick shots, just gazing her right ear. «SHIT! Shit, shit, shit, shit! The painkillers have screwed up my aim! Goddammit all to hell and back.» Dante cursed, holstering his gun and sheeting his sword before he left the basement.

Well back at the office, Dante gave Trish a report on what was on «the other side». When he was done, Trish folded her arms over her chest and chuckled lightly. «A common mistake for beginners. Summons are all about energy, the spells themselves are useless if you don't have the energy to back them up. It's like putting a 9V battery in a car, it won't move an inch.» Dante wasn't much amused. He just stripped down from his sword and guns, dumping it all on the floor around his feet. «The animals she'd cut wasn't enough to tie you down, or their life essence to be precise. Plus I bet that she didn't cut them with clean feelings, she felt sorry for them and remorse after it was done, which of course would cripple the sacrifice even more.» Trish was happily talking, while Dante on the other hand was limping back to bed.


	17. The Games People Play

**The Games People Play**

The elevator made a steady climb towards its destination, Dante rubbed the last traces of sleep out of his eyes while he watched the red digit counter go higher and higher. Donald Love, the owner of the office complex that those Sin Scythes had attacked a few days back wanted to discuss something with Dante. What it was, he wouldn't say, at least not over the phone. Now that could mean one out of three things; 1. It was very hush, hush stuff so he didn't want to take any chances, 2. It was some sort of special reward for Dante that had to be handed over personally or 3. It was a setup and Dante was walking straight into more trouble.

Either way Dante didn't have any problems with any of the possible outcomes. Hush, hush stuff was in the game that Dante played, special rewards came every now and then, though for the most part it boiled down to «It's on the house» or cold hard cash. As far as trouble went, Donald Love was a good ol' fashion human, despite his extensive network, a mere mortal with no special powers. Plus adding Dante's reputation in the criminal underworld of Raccoon City, it was unlikely that Mr Love would pull a stunt like that.

At last the elevator came to a halt with the usual ding and as the sliding doors opened with a low humming sound, Dante stepped out, walking straight to the secretary's desk. «May I help you sir?» The young lad behind the desk asked. A new face, Dante mused. Every now and then, Mr Love had to swap personal secretary for... various reasons. «I'm here to see your boss.» He grunted to the secretary, whom tapped a little on his desktop computer to check the appointment list. «Uh-huh, your name sir?» He asked Dante. «I'm not listed, just buzz your boss and tell him I'm here.» Dante replied, sniffling a yawn as he spoke.

The secretary frowned at Dante, trying his best to be polite and diplomatic at the same time. «I'm sorry sir, but I really need your name. For security reasons. Mr Love is very strict about these things.» He insisted to Dante. «And for the same security reasons I can't give you my name. Just give him a description of my looks then.» Dante suggested. Hesitant, the secretary took Dante's suggestion and buzzed into Mr Love's office. After a little back and forth, Dante was allowed inside.

Donald Love's office was huge, decorated with rare pieces of art and covered in a calm gray tone from floor to ceiling. Not so bright that it made the room look like a hospital nor too dark making it look like some sort of dungeon. The view was a real killer, which according to a few rumors, at least 5 people had experienced close and personal. «Mr Dante, always a pleasure doing business with you.» Donald beamed from behind his gigantic desk. «Can we just pretend I've given you the usual greetings, that we've already been babbling about this and that for a good 15 minutes straight and just cut to the point?» Dante mumbled, brushing away Donald's greeting.

A normal person would be flying either out the window, down the stairs or the elevator shaft for talking like that to Mr Love, but Dante was the exception to that rule. «Hahahaha! You never change Dante and I hope to God you never will.» Donald laughed in his chair, gesturing for Dante to take a seat. Sinking into a chair, Dante sighed slightly as he waited for Donald to speak up. «Well, I've two small problems I need you to take care of, on the usual terms and discretion level of course.» Donald began. Dante nodded his reply, so far they were on the same page.

Opening a drawer in his desk, Donald picked up a brown envelope and tossed it into Dante's lap. «First I'd like you to watch this.» He began while Dante peeked into the envelope, where he found a key, a small memo with an address written on it and a Sony Ericsson W810i mobile phone. Picking up the phone, Dante frowned at it a little before he gave Donald a questioning little look. «It's hacked and clean, you can call whomever, wherever, whenever and never pay a dime, plus it's damn hard to trace.» Donald explained, getting a big plasma TV ready. «Cute...» Dante commented before packing it away.

Turning his attention to the TV, Dante noticed it was a demo run for a commercial. It began with some pretty cool action shots, followed with words coming into view and then explode apart. The narrator's voice over kicked in: «Tonight...the TV event that will make history...Raccoon City Survivor! This takes reality TV to a whole new level! We'll take 20 recently paroled guys, equip them with grenade launchers and flamethrowers...and let them hunt each other down!! It's the reality show where you...just might be...part of the action!!»

Some more action followed, as a by-stander told about his experience: «I was grabbing a sandwich in the Happy Blimp, and all-of-a-sudden these guys crashed through the window and started shooting at each other! I was so excited, I didn't even notice I'd been hit! After that, I was hooked on Raccoon City Survivor! I watch it every day in the hospital!» He even finished with a fat grin and the thumbs up. The main narrator took over from there: «The game doesn't end until there's only one man left standing!! Tune in nightly, or watch the 24hour live webcast!...Raccoon City Survivor!!...Natural selection...has come home!!... Sponsored by AmmuNation. Please remember to put litter in it's place.»

Dante just sat there, nodding to himself while making a face of mixed impressions. «So what do you think?» Donald asked him. «You're gonna make history alright, though I can't say if it'll be for the better or worse.» Dante mused, turning his attention back to his new phone. «I have a little trouble seeing how this could pose a problem and how I'm suppose to solve it for you.» He added. Donald looked as if he expected something like that, so he took a deep breath and dived straight into it. «I'd like you to participate.» He told Dante.

With a dubious glance, Dante looked over at Donald. «For real?» He asked, just to make sure he heard Donald right. «Yes, I am.» Donald said with a perfectly straight face. Dante frowned and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. «I don't like to have cameras spinning around my head, they mess up my style.» He objected. «Please Mr Dante, it has come to my attention that the federal government wants to have this wonderful concept fixed, sticking agents amongst the participators and thus ruining the whole idea.» Donald pleaded and explained.

Dante had a pretty straight forward policy about such things and it usually came down to one word; NO. «Not interested.» He told Donald, rising from his chair. «Please Mr Dante, reconsider, you haven't heard all of it yet as this problem is linked to the other one I need your help with.» Donald said, also rising while gesturing for Dante to sit back and hear him out. «This better be good.» Dante mumbled, sinking back to his chair.

Donald leaned forward and rested his elbows on his desk, getting a serious look on his face as he did so. «The next one is pretty bad, I dare say bad even by your standards, Mr Dante.» He admitted. Now that caught Dante's attention. Donald had always had that you-can't-touch-me-even-if-you-caught-me-red-handed aura about him, so he's always confident. Once had Dante seen his confidence shrink down to an embarrassing fart and Dante was the one that made that happen. Could this be the one? The one that Dante was looking for, the killer of his family? «Several buildings I own all over town are having problems, the basements and lower floors are messed up as if... hell, a big something, a mole of biblical proportions is having the time of its life under my buildings. The value of the said buildings have sunken drastically as the news leaked.» Donald explained to Dante.

This was big, in more than one way. Dante had been up against all sorts of things, but nothing like this, nothing this big. In most cases the devils were interested in keeping a low profile, for whatever reason. Most likely because they were automatically drawn towards sin, evil and other charming characteristics that were all trademarks of criminals. These criminals usually kept things away from the public eye, so the devils kinda just followed their lead, though that was just an educated guess from Dante's die. He couldn't really tell for sure.

«The shit really hit the fan a the day before yesterday.» Donald admitted. «A warehouse of mine out on Portland had a big hole in the basement and apparently some damn kid had slipped inside to do some voodoo or whatever. So far I've managed to keep a lid on it, keep the police and press out of it. I need you to set things straight for me Dante, double quick.» He finished, looking Dante straight in the eyes. Rising from his chair, Dante took a deep breath before he stretched towards the ceiling. «I'm all over it.» He told Donald, which seemed to put him at rest. «Though how are these things connected? One thing you want to put on a webcast and the other must be secret at all cost. Where's the link?» Dante asked, out of curiosity if nothing else.

Sighing, Donald turned around in his chair and looked out his office window. «The reality TV concept is a bit rushed, but it will work well as a smokescreen. As I told you, the damage to my buildings are extensive, but I figure if I let 20+ guys run around with guns and explosives, people will dismiss the damages as from the reality show and not by something else.» He explained to Dante. «Besides, I know how you work to some degree and I figure that in this case, you're going to need all the smokescreen you can get.» He added over his shoulder with a satisfied smirk. «Sweet deal, sounds like you've got it all covered.» Dante complimented him.

From there it was pretty much a done deal; Dante would tag along with Donald's game until the FBI decided that the reality TV show was too dangerous for them to be placing top agents there, yet an effective way to deal with criminals. Parallel to this Dante would run his own little game, looking into whatever was causing a mess with Donald's buildings. There was even a prepayment deal involved; Donald had stumbled over something that might be of Dante's interest during an auction in Berlin. It had been stored away and kept under lock and key until Donald returned from his business at Honolulu.

Arriving at the address written on the memo from Donald and with key in hand, Dante walked inside the storage as if he owned the place. The place was interestingly enough deserted for some reason. Not that Dante minded, he was used to it and when it came to special payments such as these, Dante preferred to have some privacy. Unlocking the door, the rusty hinges groaned as the door was swung open. The room behind the door was small and rectangular in shape, with a single item at the far end and only a round window in the ceiling to provide light.

Dante didn't have to go any deeper into the room to know what was in there. It was a thing that reeked of evil, stronger than anything he'd felt before. This was no small player, this was beyond any doubt one of the bigger guns in the game. As his eyes adjusted to the light, Dante could make out what it really was. It was a stone statue of a woman, obviously in pain and agony, with a big sword planted deep into her chest. Dante felt as if he was drawn to it, it was calling out to him. Although he didn't dare listen in for the details, it was pretty much the same old shit as always; pledge your loyalty to me and I'll grant you blah, blah, blah...

Although he'd heard it a hundred times before, this time it was different. In a nutshell the sword gave Dante the creeps, which didn't happen often. As a matter of fact this was the first time in nearly two decades that Dante was genuinely scared. Shaking the whispers of temptation out of his head, Dante slammed the door shut sending a loud echo through the hall he stood in. Leaning on the door with both of his hands Dante took a moment to gather his composure and calm down. Then he heard it again. Apparently the sword didn't need a clear line of sight to call out. In response, Dante locked the door and took a few steps away from it.

Troubled and shaken up by the events that had just transpired, Dante figured it was best to leave this place for now and prepare for the show that would play out later this evening. Without delay, Dante headed back to his office and started his preparations. Guns were cleaned, given a fine tune check and loaded with fresh bullets, the shotgun was given the same treatment and his sword was given a short run over the grinding machine sending orange sparks flying like a crazy fountain. Throughout his preparation, Dante had a gloomy look and was troubled. That damn sword, he couldn't shake it off for some reason. Perhaps some good ol' action was the cure? Dante hoped so. Keep the hands busy and the mind free, as the saying went.

Arriving at the appointed location and at the appointed hour, the whole city was turned upside down over the TV event of the decade. The Love Media PR machine was pulling all the tricks in the book to get as many viewers as possible, Mr Love himself would host the season opening show and would later return when it was time for the grand final. Dante, along with his fellow gamers were standing on top of the Love Media building on Staunton Island with multiple helicopters hovering above, some for media coverage others would later be transport for the participators in order to drop them off at random locations around the city, thus beginning the hunt.

The host arrived and the show began. It was obvious that Donald Love loved the camera and today he was truly shining. Hell he was like a sun ready to go supernova any moment. Rules were explained along with rewards for the people taking part. It was the usual prices; a playboy bunny of your choice, various items from the sponsors, fortune and fame. Criminals earned their freedom plus getting their record wiped so clean you could use it as a mirror afterwards. In addition, you get to live to see the light of another day, now how about that?

Dante was a little surprised when he noticed who were sitting on the commentary panel. Every darn chief gangster in town was there; Luigi, Joey Leone, Tony Cipriani, Salvatore Leone, El Burro (or Donkey in certain circles) and Asuka along with her brother Kenji whom was also handling the online bets. With Donald behind the wheel they could pull all sort of tricks, so Dante figured that they were invited to have a good time with the option of scouting out potential handymen and doing some discreet business among themselves.

Finally the moment had come, the helicopters landed and each player was teamed up with a camera man before they boarded and took off. The games would soon begin. One of the staffers came up to Dante and whispered: «Mr Love says the camera man is just for looks, as soon as you get off you're on your own and we'll dismiss it as a camera failure on our end.» Dante nodded his understanding before he too boarded and was taken to Portland before sliding down a rope military style.

While the whole town was playing games, Dante went down to business. If things had gone according to Donald's plan, Dante should be smack in the middle of the area that had been hit the hardest of Donald's buildings. As he looked around, he got the feeling of déjà vu. Eventually though, Dante just shrugged it of as one-of-those-things, figuring he'd been all over town several times over during his many adventures, and that that was all there was to it.

Entering the storehouse that had the front door blocked by yellow crime scene tape, Dante didn't waste any time and headed straight for the basement. Once down there, it hit him why he had the déjà vu feeling. It was the same place that he got summoned to less than a week ago. The scene looked a lot like it had when he'd left, though Dante hadn't really taken much notice of the scenery when he was around for the first time. At any rate, as far as he could tell, the only big difference was the knocked over table and the whole in the floor.

Taking a closer look, it became clear to Dante that the hole had been punched from underneath and upwards, since pieces of broken concrete could be found lying on the floor around the hole. Dante wasn't a fan of jig-saw puzzles, but he figured that if he bothered to, he'd find that the various pieces would fill in the hole nice and clean once put together. As for the hole itself, it wasn't that big, roughly at the size of a manhole if even that. Squatting down next to the hole, Dante flipped up his cellphone and took a few pictures of the hole with it.

On closer inspection, Dante noticed that there was blood on the edges of the whole and a few pieces of cloth mixed with some shredded flesh. «Must be from that ugly bitch that summoned me. Something caught her and dragged her down, fast and violently. She probably didn't fit through the hole originally, but whomever or whatever was doing the pulling made her fit.» Dante mused to himself. The next thing that caught Dante's eye was a few odd looking rocks. They looked like they had first been in a molten or liquid state, then dripped off from something and landed on the floor only to cool down to become hard rock again.

At that point, Dante agreed with himself that it would be better if he could consult with Ada and Leon on this one. Once he had those pieces together he might consider asking Trish for some input too, though ever since that incident at the roof he was somewhat reluctant to bring her in on this one. It was, by the looks of it, simply too big. Leon was fresh to the team, adding all the unnecessary risk to the case Dante was willing to invest already. Until he knew where he had Leon better, Dante would keep Trish out of the loop. While Dante was thinking things over, his cellphone began to ring. Answering it, Dante learned from one of Donald's co-workers that one of the FBI agents planted amongst the gamers was pulling some dirty trick to track down and take down his opponents off guard. «Alright, where is he? I'll deal with it.» Dante sighed.

Killing humans was something Dante did, though somewhat reluctantly. Only exception to this rule was when a human made his mood go sour or that Dante needed to give the general public a reminder of just who he was and what he was capable of doing should someone choose to get on his wrong side. This was a different matter altogether. Donald had asked for his help and he had given up some pretty nice payment. Even if Dante would never use the sword himself, he could destroy it along with whatever evil that rested within it. Plus Dante was more or less expected to play along, to keep up his appearance with the city's local gangsters if nothing else.

The FBI agent was last seen at the Pan Lantic constructions site on Staunton Island, where he did his last kill and is currently taking a breather. Dante headed out in the open and shifted to his demon self in a quick flash and soared to the skies. Flying straight to the construction site, Dante glided slowly in, landed in a discreet corner of the site and shifted back to his human self. Cameras would be all over the place and there were limits to what Donald could do with a live webcast. Taking the elevator to one of the top floors on the unfinished skyscraper, Dante readied his shotgun and looked around as the skies above him grew darker, rumbling with distant thunder and began crying tears of rain.

No sound aside from the rain and an occasional gust of wind could be heard. Slowly and on silent feet, Dante walked around, his weapon ready and his senses on high alert. A couple of footsteps caught his attention and he spun around, landing on one knee, taking aim. Thankfully he managed to halt himself in the last second, almost blasting the camera man who filmed him eagerly. He must be all pumped up with adrenaline, Dante thought, allowing himself to relax a little. Per rule, the camera man was just a spectator, he wasn't allowed to give hints of where the other gamer was or in any way assist either player. For security reasons he wore Kevlar west and helmet with the word PRESS written on the chest and back in big white letters.

As the concrete floor was getting soaked from the rain, Dante trusted his instincts and took aim at some crates holding scaffolding pieces and shot one of the barrels on his doubled barreled shotgun at them. Splinters of wood scattered about and the loud boom from the shotgun blast chased after the silence for a brief second. Fast feet pitter-patted from right to left, someone was crouching behind tool boxes and crates with construction materials as Dante traced its movements by sound only. A gap between two crates gave Dante the window he needed and with a timed shot, he hit his opponent somewhat, though most of the blast was lost due to the crates.

Cracking his shotgun open to reload, Dante's opponent took the chance with arms wide open. Popping up from behind the crate, he held his Colt Python with both hands and rested his arms against the top of the crate he stood behind. Within a fraction of a second he had his aim clear and pumped off two quick rounds before diving for cover again. The first shot gazed Dante's wrist causing him to loose his shotgun off the edge of the floor and down to ground level, while the second shot made a clean penetration through his right torso, between a couple of ribs.

Taken aback by the sheer force of a Colt Python at practically point blank range, Dante fell again down to his knees and gasped for air. «Lucky pig! The rain messed up my line of sight and the recoil threw me off.» The FBI agent taunted from behind his hiding spot. «Shaddup, does your daddy know you're up this late playing with his toys?» Dante grunted as he forced himself back on his feet. «HA! You've got guts man, I'll give you that.» The FBI agent laughed. «Yeah, there's always gotta be a fucker skating uphill.» Dante agreed, drawing his pistols.

The shootout continued, living up to the audience expectations and then some. Tension was thick as raw oil, even for the seasoned veterans sitting in the commentary panel. «Kenji-sama, we're now down to our two last players. Who does people think is going to win?» Donald asked the commentary panel. «People are placing their money on the south-american bank robber. Both his skills and his weapon of choice makes him second to none.» Kenji replied in a calm and very polite manner. «What is your take on this red clad gentleman with his rather special arsenal, a double barreled shotgun just used once before lost, dual raw caliber custom made pistols AND a large two-handed sword, Mr Cipriani?» Donald then turned his attention to Tony.

Looking at the many screens that displayed the shootout from multiple angles and at different zoom levels, Tony made a face of a man that was unimpressed. «I just checked the weather report Donald and there are no blizzards in hell today, so that red devil is gonna come out on top.» He said to Donald. This comment made a buzz amongst the studio audience and Donald didn't press the issue any further, rather leaving the live images to speak for themselves.

The FBI agent had taken a battered Kevlar west from a injured camera man earlier in the match and stuffed it under his jacket. It had saved his butt before and it would work again. He was sure of it, sure enough to bet his life on it. «Oy dude, I'm getting pretty tired of this shit. I'm soaked, cold and bleeding. Wanna call it the day?» Dante called out, as they had again separated themselves after a quick exchange of bullets. Another movement in the corner of Dante's eye made him react on instinct and sprayed bullets after the blurred figure. Ebony and Ivory were shot dry, jammed open in a silent scream for more bullets.

Dante was no fool, he was expecting this. He had noted that his target was moving recklessly and with a level of security that could only lead to one thing; he had protection. From what Dante could gather it was two sided: 1. He had most likely a team of fellow agents either watching or illegally tapping into the live webcast signal and thus give their man lifesaving instructions based on what they saw and heard. 2. He had physical protection on his person, some sort of body armor. Although everyone was sent off with no armor of any kind, just weapons, he must have slipped it on when no one was watching. Considering that the camera man had a bulky camera plus a heavy armor jacket to drag around, loosing him in a building long enough to secure the armor and strap it on wasn't unlikely.

Holstering Ebony and Ivory, Dante got ready. One shot, one kill – do or die time. It would be hard due to the bullet wound he got on their first encounter, but he'd pull it off somehow. If batman could do, so could he. Then it came, the few string of seconds Dante had waited for. The FBI agent came out from his hiding place, rounding a corner of a partially finished wall and as he slided down in a kneeling position to better support his aim, Dante's right arm shot over his shoulder, his hand grasped the hilt of his sword and with one strong arm movement, drew and threw his sword forward, spinning vertically like a boomerang.

The FBI agent never saw it coming, there was not enough time or space to dodge. Dante's aim was off due to his injury, so rather than hitting his target dead in the chest, the sword dug itself through the left shoulder instead. Though due to the sheer size, weight and momentum of the sword, the FBI agent was blown off his feet and sent hurling several feet back before the sword literary nailed him to another unfinished wall. Screaming in pain, the man tried desperately to ease his agony by pulling himself free from the wall. With trembling hands he fingered the sword, trying to get it out of his shoulder, but with only one arm, fatally bleeding and in a state of shock, there was nothing he could do. All his efforts were futile.

Dante motioned the camera man to come over for the final shot. Without a word, Dante walked towards his opponent, stopping only to pick up the Colt Python that he'd dropped along the way. With a short and violent yank, Dante pulled his sword free and the FBI agent dropped to the floor, crumbling down in a foster position, twitching in shock and pain as the pool of blood around him grew steadily bigger. Taking a casual aim, Dante pointed the revolver at his target and with ice cold eyes he said: «Mess with the best, die like the rest...» Before he fired the remaining 4 shots into the man, thus winning the game.


	18. Phantom

**Phantom **

It was the day after the TV event that would make history and Leon wanted to have a word or seven with Dante about what had transpired on live television. Furiously he stomped out of the police station, down to the garage and drove off in his green jeep. How could Dante do such a thing? Maybe, just maybe he didn't know what Leon did and that was all there was to it. Yes, that made sense; Dante was just tagging along thinking that the man he shot at the Pan Lantic construction site was just another scumbag crawling around in the social gutter of society.

The drive was a short one and once outside Dante's office, Leon wasted no time. Not bothering turning off the engine to his jeep, he got out and opened the double door leading into Dante's lair with a loud bang. «Dante! We need to talk, now this instant!» He demanded, but there was no reply. The nerve of that guy!! True that he could give just about everyone the creeps, but even so! Dante's attitude was really getting on Leon's nerve. Spitting curses, Leon took it upon himself to look all over the office to find Dante. However a good hour worth of thorough searching later, Leon was still empty handed. «Shit!» Leon spat out before stomping outside to get some fresh air.

Calming down a little, Leon ran things over his mind to try to pinpoint where Dante might have gone off to. His bike was missing, so he could have gone out on some sort of job. Then again, he did get a hell of a lot of media exposure last night, so he'd most likely keep a low profile since as far as Leon could tell, Dante wasn't a real fan of the public spotlight. A more casual errand, such as shopping for food, getting supplies or something of that sort? «He got injured last night, so maybe he's over at Ada's place? If he's no there now, he might have been last night and left the doc some idea of where he'd go next.» Leon mused to himself.

Digging up Ada's phone number on his cellphone, Leon gave her a call. «Dr Wong speaking.» Ada answered with her usual indifferent tone of voice. «Ada? It's Leon here, have you seen Dante?» Leon asked, getting straight to the point. «Only last night, on TV.» Ada replied callously. «Any idea where he might be at? I've tried his office, but came up empty.» Leon then asked, crossing his fingers. «Oh, you didn't get that part?» Ada asked at the other end, sounding a little surprised. «What part?» Leon shot back. «Dante's over at Sex Club-7, cashing in his reward, enjoying his 15 minutes of fame.» Ada actually chuckled.

Even more furious than before, Leon hung up on Ada and got into his jeep. Rounding the block, Leon spotted it; Dante's custom made bike parked straight outside Sex Club-7. Had he no shame at all?! Upon entry, Leon was given some trouble by the door guard, but some harsh words and flashing of his badge got him through. He caused enough of a scene to get the owner of the place, Luigi downstairs to see what the hell was going on. «Kid, kid... what's got you so bent out of shape, huh?» Luigi asked, flanked by a couple of muscle men. «Dante's here isn't he?» Leon demanded, not willing to play any games with Luigi. Leon knew that Luigi was a coward wearing a hard man's mask.

Luigi's face hardened at the sound of Dante's name. «He had a busy day yesterday and he's earned his reward fair and square. There's no way I'll let you ruin his party.» Luigi said firmly. «You better let me in or I'll have a bunch of federal agents in here so fast they'll make a breeze upon entry.» Leon threatened, pointing a finger at Luigi's face. «Kid, you just don't get it do you? I'm keeping you out of Dante's party to protect you. If you crash his party, you'll answer to HIM and the people that do, usually don't live to tell the tale.» Luigi explained. «I'll risk it.» Leon snorted out bluntly.

What happened next, Leon don't know since it all went black at that point. When he came to, he was tied up backstage of Sex Club-7. Some of Luigi's muscle men gave him a beating before Luigi walked up to him and suggested that he'd just give it up and walk home. Leon gritted his teeth and insisted that he wanted to see Dante. Another round of beating followed, but Leon did not yield. They kept it on for 5-6 rounds of beating before Luigi simply walked out, taking one of his thugs with him and telling the other to keep an eye on Leon.

Upstairs on the second floor, Dante was having a great time at the finest VIP room Sex Club-7 had to offer. Plenty of food, drink, great music and lovely girls. The mood did drop considerably when Luigi came in, turned down the stereo system and told the girls to wait outside. «You know me Luigi, so this better be good.» Dante said half glaring at Luigi. «That cop of yours, Kennedy is downstairs. Said he wanted to see you no matter what. My boys tried to knock some sense into him, but he's a persistent fuck. Since he's all yours, I figured...» Luigi explained and left the last part hanging. «He and every cop on the station probably knows about that guy last night.» Dante groaned. Getting up from the sofa he was sitting in, Dante sighed before he said: «Alright, I'll have a little heart to heart chat with him. Give us some privacy will you?»

Leon was untied and dragged upstairs before he was shoved into a richly decorated VIP room. «Okay, here you are, here I am, here we are. First you'll talk, I'll listen, then we switch places. After that, we go our separate ways, deal?» Dante said from the opposite side of the room. Leon nodded before he sunk down in a chair. «That guy you shot in that TV show, do you know who he was, I mean really was?» Leon asked Dante, looking up at him with his bruised and swollen eyes. «Federal agent James R. Johnson, joined the FBI after 4 years as a S.W.A.T in Miami. He was a uncle to 3, two twin girls and a older boy. His youngest sister was a lesbian, though she died in a hurricane some 2 years ago, trapped under the roof and drowned as the sea water rose.» Dante replied with a dull and dead voice as if he was a recorder.

Shocked, Leon just gaped at Dante. He knew, the son of a bitch knew, hell he even knew more than Leon did and he STILL did it!! Why?! «If you knew who he was, then why the hell did you gun him down like that??!!» Leon demanded. «Weren't you listening? Rules of the game stated that it wouldn't end until there was only one man left, no silver medals for finishing second. So it was either him or me.» Dante replied with more indifference than Ada. «What kind of reason is that?! You could have walked away, you could have done whatever the hell you wanted 'cause you've got this town by the balls!!» Leon protested. «You through?» Dante asked, not affected by Leon's outrage.

Leon was even more disgusted, but he felt that he couldn't mount the energy needed to yell at Dante any more, so he just nodded in reply to Dante's question. «This life I live, it's not as black and white as you'd think. Gangsters are afraid of me because some of them have seen first hand what I've done and I use that fear as means to my own ends. However handy that fear is, it must be maintained. I cannot for one second afford to be weak in front of either of them.» Dante began. «The things that I'm after, they are as bad as me, if not even worse. As far as I can tell, the one and only way to beat them is to fight fire with fire, be smarter, faster, harder, stronger and more ruthless than all of them put together.» He carried on explaining to Leon.

Unimpressed by Dante's little speech, Leon staggered back on his feet. Cracking a sarcastic smile, Leon couldn't resist the temptation and spat out at Dante: «You're one crazy son of a bitch.» Turning around to leave, Leon didn't noticed that Dante closed in on him fast from behind. Yanking him by his hair, Dante dragged Leon across the room and into the bathroom. Once there, he stuffed Leon head down the toilet, flushed it, pulled Leon's head up, banged it a few times against the edge of the toilet while waiting for it to refill with water and repeated the process. After the third time, Dante pulled Leon up so the two was face to face. Unable to look away from Dante's eyes, Leon saw for the first time that they were like two pits of burning infernal anger.

In the end, Dante just dropped Leon like a sack of sand in disgust. Grabbing his coat, Dante walked out to the hallway, where Luigi and some of his boys were waiting. «Party's over Luigi, take him to Dr Wong at the cop's place and have her patch him up as good as she can. The fucker hardly deserves that, but as much as I hate to admit it, I need him.» Dante whispered to Luigi before he left. As Leon was picked up and driven off somewhere, in his dazed state of mind one question rang over and over in his head: «what the hell was that?»

Back at the office, Dante was in a sour mood. Things had started quite nice yesterday; got a good case from Donald Love, interesting payment and even a little break from the old routine. Then Leon had to come crashing in, all high and mighty on his horse of moral, as if HE was in any position to tell Dante what was right and what was wrong. He agreed then and there that he better spend most of his efforts showing Leon the ropes. Dante would take him along with his cases, then show him first hand what it meant to do the things Dante did and why there was no room for compromises.

The phone rang and Dante answered it rougher than usual. It was Ada, her call was the last thing Dante needed. Of course Luigi's boys were too spooked to give her any explanation on why a cop whom was beaten to pulp was dropped in her lap to patch up. «I'm a forensic Dante, not a real doctor. There might be internal damage here, he could die unless I get him to a hospital!» She objected. «GODDAMMIT!! You listen to me!» Dante barked through the phone, slamming his hand on his desk. «I hear you doc, just do what you can with what you've got then and there, meanwhile I'll make some calls and see if I can cash in some favors.» This was really not Dante's day.

Over the next half hour, Dante sat with his phone calling around to see if any of his employers could cough up a private clinic or at the very least a doctor at a reasonably short notice, to patch up a beaten up cop and ask no questions. Joey had some ex-medical students and sacked nurses at his disposal, he gave Dante his word that they wouldn't talk and that they also had a clinic of sort to use. He admitted to Dante that the clinic wasn't top notch, but from what Joey could tell, it should cover Dante's needs. «Cheers Joey, send them over to pick up that sorry sack of human waste. The forensic can fill them in on whatever she can about his condition.» Dante thanked Joey over the phone before hanging up.

Taking a minute to catch his breath and calm down, letting his mind drift around aimlessly, it hit him like a ton of bricks. «GODDAMMIT ALL TO FUCKIN' HELL!» He roared, shooting out of his chair and sending his desk flying through the air with a solid kick. His relationship with Leon was now tense to say the least, so he couldn't count on his co-operation regarding that big demon thing that Donald Love had asked him to look into. «Fuckin' shit! You'd think I had cursed blood in me or something.» He complained, stomping around in his office in anger. Dante wanted to keep Trish out of the loop, but without Leon on the team that would prove difficult at best.

«Knock, knock.» A voice said from the doorway. Turning, Dante saw straight into the face that he didn't want to see at all, Trish had come for a house call. «The fuck do you want? I'm in the middle of something here.» Dante snorted at her. «And that would be... redecorating?» Trish asked. Since Dante wasn't amused, Trish decided to cut to the case. «Trismagia needs to talk to you about something, it's serious Dante. I'll take you by force if I have to.» She told him seriously. «Good, great, just bloody splendid!!» Dante laughed sarcastically. Old three-face knew, Dante was sure of it. «It's about that underground critter isn't it?» He asked Trish.

A little surprised, Trish looked at Dante for a moment, before returning to her calm self again. «Yes, how did you...?» She asked puzzled. «I know guys who know guys.» Dante replied, taking a seat on his polo table. «Well then, I guess we can skip that trip to Trismagia after all.» She said, walking over Dante's newly relocated desk and took a seat next to him. «Sing me your song Trish.» Dante said after the two of them had sat like that for a couple of minutes. «It's pretty bad Dante, you better get your grip together or you won't make it through this one.» She told him. So what else is new, Dante thought to himself but said nothing.

Trish took a small moment before she began telling Dante what he was up against. «This is one of the servants of the Dark Emperor, known as Phantom. Inside its exoskeleton body is hot molten lava. Not only is the shell hard, it also protects it from magical attacks as well.» She began. Yeah that added up with the strange rock Dante had found down in that basement. «It releases its magical powers with its mouth. This opening is the monster weak spot.» She carried on. Mouth equals weak spot, okay so far Dante was following along. «Coiled on its back is a deadly tail that will thrust its stinger with amazing speed. Keep your distance to avoid being stabbed.» Trish explained.

Made sense Dante thought. It probably used its tail to punch through the floor, then wrapped it around that girl and dragged her down with tremendous force. «It can summon the dead by plunging its head into the ground. The dead will awaken in the shape of fire pillars which strike from the places where the ground lights up. Run and jump to avoid this attack.» Trish said, gesturing with her hands and arms along the way. There are reasons why people say that the dead should stay quiet, this is one of them, Dante mentally groaned. «It can charge its powers and unleash fires of evil from its mouth. Rolling seems to work well in avoiding this attack.» Trish then explained.

Whoa, hold on there for a second, Dante's mind went on a little rewind and replayed the last bit of Trish's words: _Rolling seems to work well in avoiding this attack._ Does this mean that Trish has run into this bugger before and got away clean? She risked her own blonde ass to get vital info for him? Couldn't be... that damn oracle thingy is sitting on all the information in the known universe and then some. Hell Dante wasn't even sure if it WAS Trish talking now or if it was the oracle talking through her. «When its anger is at its peak, it'll shoot fireballs from its back like a volcanic eruption. Concentrate and dodge this attack.» Trish advised next.

Getting off the pool table, Trish started towards the door, but halted and turned around. «Last but not least; the body's topside is also vulnerable. If you want to prove yourself as a true Devil Hunter, close in on the enemy and attack him from above. Best of luck!» She smiled at him. «Oy, oy, oy... you mean I'm on my own on this one?» He asked her. «Of course you are, you're the son of Sparda after all, not me.» Trish said as if it was painfully obvious. Sparda, Sparda... when would people get it through their damn skulls that it was nothing more than a fuckin' name!! «Fine, I'll just go for a short drive meet and beat this sucker into gravel, with one hand tied behind my back and standing knee-deep in cement.» Dante snorted with sarcasm. «I'm glad to see that you're so confident, Dante.» Trish smiled, as if she hadn't noticed Dante's sarcasm.

Strapping his gear on, Dante got ready to go out devil hunting. Sword and guns were in top notch condition thanks to Dante's little adventure yesterday, Leon would stay out of his hair 'cause Luigi's boys had taken care of things, leaving Joey's private clinic and its team as the clean-up crew. Ada knew that some shit was going down since she got a beaten up Leon dropped on her front door and she knew form experience that now was the time to duck, cover and ride the storm off the best she could. When Dante thought about it, this day had started with a bang, then got dragged down in the dumps only to make one hell of a comeback as the evening drew near.

Maybe there was some sort of pattern to how this thing operated? Donald had given him all the locations that had been hit, so perhaps if he jotted those down on a map, Dante might be able to predict where the next encounter would be. Though with his luck of late, Dante felt that the bugger would drop down when the timing was at its worst, just to really rub it in. First stop would be Raccoon City tourist information center, to get a city map. An odd place to start the biggest devil hunt to date, but hey that's the way it was.

Once Dante had secured himself a map, he found a quiet side street and jotted down the places that had been hit on the map. Looking down at the various dots, Dante didn't really see any immediate and obvious pattern. Thus far there had been only one victim; that girl that summoned Dante in the basement. Was she the key? If so, how and why? Trish had been talking happily about the finer details about summoning once Dante had returned form the ordeal, but he hadn't really listened to her.

Ruffling his hair in frustration, Dante decided to start all over again from scratch. The girl had summoned him, why? She needed a demon pet for whatever reason. Trish said that the summon itself was amateurishly done, hence her failure. Aside from forgetting vital details, alternatively being totally ignorant about them, what other amateurish mistakes could she had done? She could have been overconfident, but how did that add up? Ignorant, overconfident and sloppy... not the best combination of characteristics. It was a long shot, but Dante somehow came to an agreement that after her failure with him, the girl tried once more and thus caught that bug's attention. Unable to control it, she paid the price. Made sense, but he still had to be sure. Starting his bike, Dante figured he'd better head over to the scene of the crime to dig up some facts to support his theory.

After a hasty drive, Dante arrived for the third time at the basement. Things hadn't changed much since his last visit as far as Dante could tell. «That book of hers, maybe that one holds any clues?» Dante mumbled to himself as he started looking around for the book. He did finally find it, surprisingly intact. Flipping through the pages, Dante just realized that he had no clue what spell the girl had used. He stopped his browsing and flipped a few pages back again before he stopped at a couple of pages that had blood splatted over them.

Holding the book open in his hands, Dante glanced over at the hole in the floor. The girl had been pulled down fast and brutally, causing her body to be forceably made to fit, thus damaging it and sending blood flying, splatting the pages that were currently open in the book. The book could have shifted location as people discovered what had happened, thus making the police ignoring it, plus Donald pulled some strings to shove this case under the carpet making the crime scene investigation group's work incomplete. Oh sweet logic.

Turning his attention back to the book, Dante looked at the letters carefully. Although he can't recall ever being taught how to read this gibberish, which looked like some sick cross-over of Chinese, Japanese and Arabic letters, the words themselves made perfect sense. An image popped into Dante's head; Trish spell on that rooftop. «A helping hand, huh?» Dante mused to himself, before reading on in the book.

The text proved to be a summoning command of sorts, calling upon the mightiest demon in the kingdom. Okay, by kingdom Dante figured that the good ol' USA fitted the bill, despite lacking little details like a king, queen and nobles. The mightiest demon part though didn't make much sense. If Dante understood it right, the summoning command would start at the top, with the biggest and baddest of them all, then work its way downwards in case the one summoned resisted or rejected the summon. However, Dante had answered the call and the first thing the girl said upon his arrival was that the spell worked. Ergo, Dante was the first one to come through, which meant, according to these blood splattered pages, that he was the mightiest demon in the kingdom. Hallelujah...

So when Dante left, the spell took that as a rejection of the summoning command or it was a flat out failure because the spell itself didn't have sufficient energy to contain Dante and thus bind him to the summoners will. At any rate, the girl obviously had a second go at the spell, more eager now knowing that it actually worked. She probably came to the same conclusion; there wasn't enough life essence to bind the demon to her command. However she miscalculated, figuring that the next demon would be weaker, thus requiring less life essence to be contained. While she was in principle correct, this other demon wasn't all that much weaker than Dante, hence the result.

Maybe the best way to get this buggers attention was to do it all over again? Gut some street dogs, chant a little and then blow the sucker out of the sky as soon as it popped it's ugly head through the portal? By the looks of it, it was one big son of a gun, so Dante were best to move somewhere more spacey. Taking the book with him, Dante headed upstairs to look for some bait. This sure as hell beat driving all over town chasing this sucker down.

After spending a small hour chasing after stray cats, Dante was all set. He rigged himself up with an improvised altar of sort, mainly made out of trashcans and had tied the stray cats to it. Idealistically Dante should have dug up some nuns as his sacrifice, thus he could bind the demon to his will and send it off to its own death, or so the book claimed, but where was the fun in that? He wanted to take down the sucker with his own two hands fair and square, no cheap shots and sucker punches.

Flipping open the book, Dante chanted in a obscure language, drew his sword and cut the stray cats in a ceremonial manner. Then, he waited. Hopefully he wouldn't be summoning himself, which would be kind of embarrassing to say the least. Soon the ground gave away a low and deep rumble as it began to tremble as if an earthquake was heading Dante's way. Without a warning it came, crashing through the ground. By God this thing was huge! Large as a goddamn bus and then some. As far as looks went, it was a spider made of rock, with some cracks here and there which molten lava dripped from, these also made up the joints in its body, allowing it to move its legs around.

The demon shrieked in fury, stomping its feet angrily at the ground. It then took a small moment to eye Dante up and down. «Bah...another small one. I sensed something a little bigger... what a disappointing catch!» It snorted unimpressed. Dante on the other hand, took a few steps forward and gave the spider's right foreleg a little knocking, as if to test its durability. «What a 'big' surprise...I hope for your sake you have something inside that big body of yours.» He commented to the demon, not intimidated at all. The demon's eyes turned a blazing red at his words, as it roared in outrage: «You PUNY pathetic thing! I'll step on you like an ant! Gwahahahaha...»

One of it's legs rose high to strike down at Dante and in the last second, Dante jumped high up in the air, out of harms way, landing a good 20 feet behind the demon. Neither of the two combatants wasted a second. Dante drew his guns and fired away while the Phantom made a short jump and turned around in mid air. Shielding its face with its forearms, Dante's guns proved inefficient against the solid rock. As Dante ran out of bullets and was forced to reload, Phantom saw a window to launch an attack. Opening it's horrible jaws wide open, it fired a ball of fire at Dante.

With a quick reflex, Dante holstered his guns, drew his sword and used its broad side to shield off the attack. Even though he avoided a direct hit, the blast was powerful enough to send him off his feet, flying backwards. As he lied flat on his back, Dante saw in the corner of his blurred vision that the Phantom dug its head into the ground. Remembering what Trish had told him about the Phantoms attacks, Dante somehow managed to find the strength to get back on his feet, escaping a pillar of evil flame that shot up from the ground with a hairs width. «Sword, sword, sword!» Dante cursed while he reloaded his guns and ran, jumped and dodged the best he could as pillars of flame shot up again and again, constantly chasing after his heels.

Finally Dante managed to run around, snatch up his sword and getting ready to fight back. Phantom pulled his head up again to get his bearing before he charged up another fireball in his mouth. «Say AAAAH!!» Dante smirked, holding his sword with both hands as if it was a baseball bat. As the fireball came hurling down towards Dante, he timed it with a swing of his sword. Giving it all that he got, the two forces collided with immense power, sending the fireball back to its point of origin. The ball hit Phantom smack in the face, causing it to stagger backwards trying to regain its composure, which was what Dante was waiting for. Wasting no time, he dashed forward, shoving Phantom's forelegs out of the way with his sword and quickly drawing Ebony, stuffing it straight into Phantoms mouth, pulling the trigger as fast as he could.

Screaming in pain, Phantom knocked Dante out of the way as if he was nothing but a rag-doll with one of his forelegs. Making spitting sounds as it tried to recover from Dante's attack, Phantom was too distracted to deliver a follow-up attack. Dante was down to his last couple of magazines for his guns, so he figured he might as well make them really count. With the last of his strength, Dante dragged himself up on his feet and ran as fast as his battered body would allow him to.

Once he got close enough on Phantom's left side, Dante shifted to his demon half, gave his wings a few quick flaps and landed on the huge demons back. Drawing his sword, Dante gave Phantom's back a few quick, long and deep slashes. Wiggling around in pain, Phantom tried to shake Dante off. «Die screaming, fucker!» Dante cried out, unloading Ebony and Ivory into the fresh cuts on Phantom's back, sending molten lava splashing about.

Being busy keeping his footing, Dante didn't notice that the back of Phantom's body unwrapped and reviled its massive tail. With amazing speed it wrapped itself around Dante's legs and pulled him up in the air. Taken by complete surprise, Dante lost both his sword, guns and concentration, causing him to shift back to his human form. « Why... won't... you... die... you... pathetic... worthless... sack... of... flesh...!!!» Phantom yelled as it banged Dante's body, torso first into the ground with each word it spoke. «DAMN YOU HUMAN!! Damn you for making me fight so seriously!» He roared at Dante's motionless frame. «Bah!» It finally snorted, dropping Dante to the floor with a hollow thud before it crawled back to the hole of which it had arrived from.

As silence crawled in over the scene once again, Dante lied like a broken puppet in a pool of his own blood. Trish came walking out a shadowy corner as if she was made of it and stopped once she stood next to Dante. «Equals... impressive, yet not that impressive.» She noted to herself before picking Dante up, putting his left arm over her shoulders and dragging him away from the scene as police, fire and ambulance sirens grew louder in the distance.


End file.
